Roommates
by kayak
Summary: Nami moves in with Sanji. AU
1. Introduction

Roommates

They met through a mutual friend. It was the sort of statement happy couples gave when relating their first meeting over dinner with friends or at a party. The difference here was they weren't a couple, but roommates. Given the depressing nature of that year, Nami still remembered the circumstances that eventually led up to their meeting like it was yesterday.

At the time, the luncheon seemed mundane and ordinary. No one really expected any life changing chain of events were taking place. Life was always unpredictable in that fashion.

Her situation was very simple.

Nami desperately needed a place to live in the City. The daily 80-minute commute to work was next to impossible to maintain without any tardy. That was if the traffic was light. The City was starting on its road improvement construction projects that it had been promising for years, randomly closing one lane at time. It was good because the roads needed it badly with its many potholes and cracks. It was bad for her only that it meant adding another half hour to her commute time.

So when Usopp, her old college friend, mentioned he knew someone who needed a roommate in a two-bedroom condo, she leaped at his words. He told her the location and the rent, which was close to her work and cheap.

Usopp knew how much Nami loved cheap things.

She would get her own bathroom and a balcony with a gorgeous view of the bay. It was only when he got to her impending roommate did her heart fall. His friend was male.

"Don't worry. He's gay."

"Gay? How do you know any gay men?" She took a long sip from her coffee and wrinkled her nose at the taste. It was too bitter. The way he went on about how great the place was, she suspected it was too good to be true. He reminded her of a shady car salesman she had the misfortune of dealing with once.

"I know a lot of people you don't know." Usopp started counting them off on his hand. "There's Dorry the butcher, Broggy the barber, Oimo the postman, Kashi the florist-"

"Okay, okay. I get the point. You know a lot of people."

"He's cool. You'll like him. He's just in a tight spot right now, but don't tell him I told you that," he spoke rather quickly. He leaned in closer and whispered to her, "He's very sensitive. You know, being gay and all."

"Oh, I see." Like that made any sense. "So how do you know him?"

"We went to the same high school, but I didn't really get to know him until our senior year. You see, he had crush on me, but I had to turn him down. Me being straight, it wouldn't have work out. But don't tell him that you know! It might bring up bad memories."

"Sure. No problem." She rolled her eyes like she really cared.

In the end, Nami decided it couldn't hurt to met the guy and check the place out. Usopp said he would arrange a meeting with him later in the week. If anything felt fishy or creepy about him, she could just turn it down without any bad feelings.

Three days later, Nami met Usopp in front of a 8-story apartment building of his friend's condo. The building was built out of white concrete with a blue roof. The neighborhood itself was made up of cafes, bookstores, restaurants, deli shops and a convenience stores. Small nicely trimmed trees dotted the sidewalk and the street was clean and free of liter. Nami was already hooked by the fashion boutiques that seemed ubiquitous in the area.

Usopp rang the buzzer and they waited a few minutes for him to come down and greet them.

Sanji wasn't like any gay man Nami knew, which wasn't saying a whole lot considering she probably knew only one. She half expected him to be flamboyant and feminine like the ones from the television shows, but he was nothing like that. In fact, he was the exact opposite.

Dressed entirely in black: shirt, slacks, jacket, the whole shebang, the only thing that wasn't black was his hair, which was a bright sunny blond. He was tall and slender and had a bit of chin hair that might have been a work in progress for possibly a beard. Nami wouldn't have known he was gay if Usopp hadn't told her in advance.

They exchanged the customary formal introduction, shaking hands and such and then he led them upstairs. He explained the elevator was out of service while maintenance was attending to it.

By the time they reach the third floor, Usopp was short of breath and struggling.

"Go on without me. I forgot my asthma medication."

"You don't have asthma," Sanji stated and threw him a disgusted glare.

Usopp ignored him and sat down on the step, digging in his backpack for something. Nami and Sanji exchanged disapproving looks. She could only shrug her shoulders. There was no point in arguing with him. If he said he had an illness, he had it, despite all evidence to the contrary. They left him alone and climbed up two more flight of stairs to the fifth floor.

"So what do you do for a living?" he asked as he unlocked the door.

"I work for a design build firm as an architect."

"So you design buildings?

"As matter of fact, I do. Usopp says you cook for a living. What kind of food?"

"Mainly seafood, but I can cook anything you like." It sounded like a boast coming from him.

That was the extend of their conversation. She didn't try to force anymore out of him with small talk and he didn't bother to prolong it either. She followed him inside.

The first room they toured was the kitchen. It had a stainless steel French door refrigerator and a black six-burner stove with a hood overhead. The maple cabinets nicely complemented the black granite countertop. Nami, who rarely cooked, thought it was the most luxurious-looking kitchen she had ever seen and wondered if he would object to her putting in a microwave. But she was getting way ahead of herself.

The next room was the living room. It was just as extravagant as the kitchen. A black leather sofa and large flat screen television were the main furniture she noticed. Finally the last room of interest was the vacant room that occupied the corner of the building. Compare to the other two rooms, it was bland, but only because it had nothing in it. It was little dusty and a few cobwebs had settled in the corners of the ceiling. The bathroom only had a shower stall, which suited her fine since she never bothered to take bubble baths. And there was indeed a balcony with view of the bay like Usopp mentioned.

Usopp? That reminded her. Where was he? How long did it take to climb up two more flights of stairs? Maybe he had passed out somewhere between the third and fifth floor.

Sanji stood aloof, studying her from outside the room. He had a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his hands were hidden in his pants pockets. "So what do you think?"

"It looks good. Did you live with someone else before?" She slid open balcony door and step out to take in the fresh air. She could see the entire neighborhood from up here. It felt fantastic.

A loud pounding at the front door interrupted them and pulled Nami back in.

"Oi, let me in," Usopp shouted.

"About time. What took you so long?"

They headed back and let Usopp in. He still appeared flushed and out of breath. "Any good?"

She folded her arms and stared at him. He was seriously out of shape. "I'll think about it and get back to you on it."

It didn't take Nami long to get back to him. Since Sanji was Usopp's old friend and he was gay, she reasoned it would be okay. Even if he wasn't gay, she known people to room with people of the opposite sex without any problems.

Within a week, she had the paperwork filled out and the keys handed to her. Moving was a pain so she hired a moving company to take care of things. She was too busy with work to deal with the packing and sorting. She decided her survey desk, swivel chair, twin-size bed, bookcase and drawer chest were the most important furniture to bring. The ones she didn't need, she would leave at home with her older sister. Of course all her clothes and shoes came with her. She couldn't bear to leave any of them behind. And anything else she might need she would buy after she moved in.

Space was made in the cabinets for her kitchen appliances, which included a rusty electric kettle, a food processor, and a toaster. The refrigerator's right half was emptied for her use as well. When Nami asked about where she could put her microwave, she swore Sanji appeared offended but he turned away too fast from her to be sure. He told her she could stick it in the corner of the counter.

Sanji showed her where the laundromat was and where to dispose of the garbage. He gave her instructions on separating the garbage for recycling and compose.

At first, Nami wasn't sure how to handle herself around a gay man. She worried about the possible male 'friend' he could bring home late at night, but that never happened as far as she could tell. At least, she was never awoken by any heavy moaning and panting emanating from his room. He didn't have any strange habits and was quiet and very neat for a guy.

The most convenient thing about her new roommate was she saw very little of him after moving in. His work schedule always put him at home at different hours of the day. Sanji worked the swing shift. Meaning, by the time Nami left for work, he was still asleep and when he got home, she was already in bed.

The only form of communication she ever received from him was the periodic Post-it note left on the refrigerator door. Mostly, it was a note to remind her to clean after herself in the kitchen or to take out the trash.

Overall, Nami was delighted with the arrangement. It was like she had the whole place to herself. She made full use of his living room with the big screen television and comfy couch. The kitchen, on the other hand, was another matter.

Nami had never seen a stove with six burners before. It also had more switches and buttons than she thought possible for a stove to have. She tried to turn it on once, but it started making a clicking noise like a time bomb. It seriously freaked her out. The last thing she wanted was to set the kitchen on fire. It was there and then, she decided to stick by her microwave for all her cooking needs.

Strange thing was, his stove still looked brand new. Why he had a stove that grand, but barely use was weird. But he was a chef so it was probably what chefs did.

They lived together like this for months, each living their own separate lives. It never once occurred to Nami how odd their setup was. How two people living in the same space could know so little of each other. Every time she passed the door to his room, she never once thought about what he was doing or how he was.

To be fair, Sanji never once approached her with any overture of friendship. So they went about their own business like the other person never truly existed.

It was then on one particular, inconsequential day that Fate decided to step in on their behalf.


	2. The Favor

Roommates

Like everyone in the working world, everybody hated Mondays. It was the start of a new work week that had to be overcome. It was when everything was due and new assignments were passed out. People who played too hard over the weekend had the hardest time adjusting back to their work life, often needing one or two cups of coffee to stay awake.

Nami took it all in without a hitch.

She got up early like she always did and did her daily jog through the park. She loved passing by the clothing boutiques to look at newest clothes. Sometimes she bought a magazine from the corner newsstand to read on the latest trends. When she got home, she showered and changed for work. If she had the time, she made coffee and toasted some bread before heading off.

Today was a little different than usual.

The refrigerator door had not one but two Post-it notes. One was a reminder that it was her turn to take out the trash. The other was same old message to clean up after herself. Only this time, Sanji had written the entire message in capital letters.

Nami rolled her eyes, annoyed with him. Sanji was so fussy when it came to his kitchen and impossible to please. How clean did he expect the kitchen to be? Nami rarely left any dirty dishes in the sink and she hardly ever cooked. She ate out most of the time.

Running short of time, she ran through the kitchen, the living room and then her own room, collecting all the trash. She didn't need to worry about his room. He took care of his own trash when it was his turn. She carried the trash downstairs to the garbage room where she dumped it all in the waste bin. She never once bothered to separate them. She knew one day she would have to answer to God about that.

She rushed back to her room and grabbed her coat and purse. She checked herself in the mirror before running out. She made it just in time to catch her bus to work.

Nami worked on the 10th floor of a large office building. Her company, Arlong Park Inc, did some consulting and design work. The head of the company, Arlong, was a creepy tall man that she met a few times. When she applied for a position a few years ago, Arlong conducted the interview along with another man, called Hachi. He was so impressed by her sample work, he hired her on the spot. Nami couldn't really refuse when she saw her starting salary. It was high for someone with her little work experience.

Today, she had a big presentation for a potential client, Baroque Works Ltd. She had been working on it for a few weeks. If they liked it, Arlong Park would get hired. If they didn't, she would have to answer to Hachi, who in turn would have to answer to Arlong. No one wanted to have a private meeting with Arlong.

Nami was a little stressed. She went over her notes and rechecked her PowerPoint slides. Everything seemed good to her until she realize with a blood-draining shock that she couldn't find the designs for the layout of the building. She searched under her desk and then around her cubicle. No sign of it anywhere. She felt horrible. Where could it have gone?

Nezumi, that sneaky bastard, she thought. He had a face like a sleazy rat. She wouldn't put pass him to sabotage her. The guy never had a nice thing to say to her and always expected her to do everything. He was the type of guy to take it and hide it from her just to stress her out.

Then she remembered she took it home over the weekend to put the finishing touches. It sat in her room on her survey desk. She had completely forgotten it in her mad rush to take out the trash.

Crap. She checked her wristwatch and realized she had like 10 minutes before the meeting was schedule to start. It would take her at least 15 minutes to get home and then another 15 minutes to get back. She seriously doubted they would be patient enough to wait that long. She needed a plan fast.

Then it hit her. If she could get someone else to bring them to her, she could save a lot of time.

Nami dialed up Usopp on her cell phone. "Usopp, I need Sanji's phone number."

"Huh, Nami? What's going on? What do you want?"

"Give me Sanji's number."

"Why don't you have it already?"

"Don't ask silly questions. I'm in a hurry. I need his phone number."

"Okay, okay. Don't bite my head off." Usopp gave her the number and she jolted it down a piece of scratch paper. She immediately hung up and dialed the number. It rang seven times before he finally picked up.

"Hello Sanji. This is Nami. I know we don't know each other very well, but I would really appreciate it if you could go to my room and get a canister and drop it off my work as quickly as possible. You would be doing me a big favor."

"Hmmm?"

She repeated herself again. "Sanji, I would really appreciate if you could find something in my room and bring to my work. I have a very important meeting in a few minutes and I need it for my presentation."

A long moment of silence followed.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?" Sanji sounded groggy and disoriented.

She gritted her teeth, trying to control her frustration. "It's Nami. Your roommate. The lady who took out the trash today. Remember?"

There was another moment of silence. Then she realized the call was disconnected. Did he hang up? She dialed his number again.

It took five rings before he answered again. "Please, I'm begging you. Could you please help me this one time?" she pleaded. If she didn't get those designs, who knew what Arlong would say.

"Now?"

"Yes, please."

"Fine. What do you want?"

Relieved, she quickly explained her situation and gave him the address to the building. "Just give the canister to security at the front desk. His name is Wong. He'll bring it up to me." Just before she disconnected, she added, "Take your time, but hurry!"

To her dismay, the representative from Baroque Works Ltd was early. Their clients were never early, but he was five minutes early. Hachi ushered him into the conference room and told someone to get coffee. Nami scrambled to get her notes and laptop ready. The projector was already setup. She needed to stall for time. Go as slow as possible.

Nami went through projection, cost and timeline. Hachi stepped in whenever he could. Her slide show seemed so pitifully short with the time ticking away. She couldn't help but stare at the clock every minute and then the door. The potential client, Mr. Daz Bones, looked positively bored. A tall man with broad shoulders, his expression was flat and lifeless. The only movement he exerted was occasional writing he did in his journal. He didn't even touch the coffee that was given to him.

Every time Nami presented a key point, she stopped and asked if he had any questions. He always shook his head and told her to continue. Nami cried inwardly. All her other clients asked questions. They had plenty of questions, pointless questions, sometimes dragging the meeting out for another half an hour. It wasn't until 20 minutes into the meeting did he interrupt her.

"Ms. Swan." Bones carefully set his pen down in front of him and clasped his hands together. "I'm sure everything is in order in your portfolio. The number sounds very good, but I am interested in seeing the designs. My recommendations to my superior are largely based on your designs."

"Yes, the designs," Nami spoke slowly, her heart beating rapidly. She glanced nervously over to Hachi.

"Why don't we take a short recess and let Ms. Swan set them up," Hachi spoke.

"Very well."

Salvation! She ran to her desk and phoned for the security downstairs. "Wong, I'm expecting something. Did anyone leave me anything?"

"I'm afraid not. No one has given me anything."

Dejected, Nami hung up and let her head fall flat on the desk with a dull bang. Where was Sanji? Did he get lost? She tried calling him on his cell phone, but she was sent directly to voice mail. What was she going to do now? She had no designs. She would have to admit she wasn't ready. Maybe they could reschedule the presentation.

Someone cleared his throat.

Nami didn't bother to look up. It was probably that stupid Nezumi, giving her a hard time again. She wasn't in mood for his condescending banter. What a bad day.

There was a thud on her desk as something dropped in front of her. She peered up in disgust and then her eyes opened and closed rapidly. It was her canister.

Nami lifted her head and saw Sanji standing in her cubicle. He was dressed entirely in black, sporting a pair of sunglasses.

She was speechless. She sat up and popped open the canister and pulled out the layouts. They were all there. Thank goodness. Wasting no time, she headed straight to the meeting room and started setting up.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Mr. Bones still didn't crack a smile or do anything else encouraging, but he had questions for her, which showed he was at least interested. He left shaking hers and Hachi's hands. Hachi seemed hopeful, which was good enough for her.

When Nami returned to her desk, ready to put the whole crisis behind her and go to a long lunch, she was startled. Someone was sitting in her swivel chair. The back of the chair was facing her and she could see a mass of blond hair over top of the chair.

It was Sanji. Nami had forgotten about him after she ran back to her meeting. Surprisingly he was still here, waiting for her return. She groaned, realizing she ditched him without saying anything to him. "I'm sorry. Thank you for bringing my designs. It saved me a lot of embarrassment."

There was no sound from him. Did he fall asleep or something? She was tempted to spin the chair around to check when it turned on its own. Sanji had an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth and he still wore his sunglasses.

"I don't wake up this early." His tone clearly annoyed.

"I'm sorry." Nami was struggling to find something to say. "Thank you for coming to my aid. How much did the taxi ride cost?"

He lowered his sunglasses and peered at her over the top of the lens. "Is that all I get?"

A little taken back, she was unsure how to respond. Men were generally agreeable in her experience and never this cranky. "Uh, how about lunch? Are you hungry?"

"I suppose." He tilted his head to the side and spun in her chair once more before jumping up. "Where are we eating?"

She grabbed her purse and led the way to the elevator with him following a few steps behind. "There's a cafeteria on the second floor. We can- Wait a second. How did you get in here in the first place? How did you get pass security?"

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "I just did. I couldn't find Wang so I came up."

"It's Wong," she corrected.

"Whatever."

The cafeteria was crowded as usual with people pouring in from all over the building. She took a tray and utensils from the dispenser and started looking through stalls at the food. Today was sushi day and there was a chef, who didn't even remotely appear Asian, preparing it. She noticed Sanji was not following her. Instead, he scrutinized the whole place. He took one look at the sushi chef and immediately turned away.

"You eat here?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

Nami rolled her eyes. "Yes, I eat here." That was right. How could she forget. He was some kind of a gourmet chef. Of course something like a cafeteria was beneath him. Well, she didn't care what he thought of it. The food was cheap and fast. She just wanted to feed him and get him out of the building before security caught them.

"I don't want to eat here."

"What?"

"I don't want to eat here," he repeated firmly.

"Then where do you want to eat?" Her hand fell to her hip. She had almost picked out a salad from the bar.

"Let's go outside and see what's around here." He waltzed off, waving at her to follow. Nami had to quickly put the tray back and run to catch up to him.

Nami rarely ate outside the building. The few exceptions were when Hachi treated the group to sushi or pizza. It was easier to eat at the cafeteria when she didn't bring lunch to work, which was often.

Sanji walked fast, making her jog every so often just to keep up. They passed several eateries: Mexican, Thai, Chinese, and Indian. None of them caught his attention. Nami was wondering how far they were going to go for lunch.

Finally, he picked out a small fancy-looking French restaurant. They stepped inside. The waiter, dressed in a shirt and tie, seated them and left them with the menus. Nami took a glance at the menu. There was rabbit, venison, quail and swordfish, all meat she had never eaten before. When her eyes flickered over to the prices, she gasped. The cheapest dish was 20 dollars and it was only an appetizer.

Nami folded the menu and set it down on the table. "I'm not that hungry."

Sanji murmured something, but didn't acknowledge her. He continued to peruse the menu unconcerned about anything until the waiter arrived to take their order.

Nami was only going to ask for coffee, but Sanji stopped her, talking in French to waiter. The waiter jolted down everything he said, nodding his head and grinning.

"Wait, what did you order?"

"Don't worry. I ordered for you. You'll like it." He gave her a bland smile.

It was going to be an agonizing lunch. She had no idea what to expect, but she knew it would cost her plenty. Sanji, who was busy eyeing the male waiter, ignored her until first dish arrived. His sunglasses were finally off and Nami could see just how tired he looked.

"Don't be so uptight and eat."

"I'm not uptight." She scrutinized her plate. It looked like someone painted a stain than any kind of food she had ever seen.

"Then enjoy the food. You can afford to splurge a little."

"What is it?"

He paused and considered. "It's hard to explain. Just eat it."

That only worried her. Presently, Nami had only two options. She could either sit, shaking her leg and watch him gobble everything up or she could hold her nose and eat whatever the mystery surprise Sanji had ordered. She went with the second option when she remembered she was paying for the meal.

By the time it was all over, Nami realized she was wrong. Lunch wasn't agonizing like she predicted. It was different and delicious. Sanji was indeed an expert of food. He was patient enough to explain what some of the food was and how to best savor the taste of it. He even made a joke about the name of the establishment.

Nami had to admit he didn't behave like a total jerk and didn't waste all his time checking out the male patrons. But he didn't bother be subtle about it either when he did look at them.

Nami took a sip of her coffee, enjoying the wonderful aroma. It was really good coffee. The best she ever had.

Sanji pushed back his sleeve to stare at his watch. "I have to go to work. Thanks for lunch."

He took off just as the waiter bought her the check. That left her in a bad mood for the rest of the day.


	3. Philanthropy

Roommates

Things went back to normal after her presentation with Baroque Works Ltd.

Almost.

Exactly one week after her high-priced luncheon with Sanji, she came home to an empty apartment as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary there. She picked up their mail, tossed his on the side table in the hallway like she always did and headed straight to the kitchen for something to eat.

All she had was Chinese takeout, which she bought the night before. Microwaving that, she dug around the cabinet for something sweet. After she finished her meal, she washed up, brushed her teeth and jumped into bed. She read one chapter of her sci-fi novel before falling asleep.

Things went a little strange after that.

Nami woke up early for her daily jog. Like clockwork, she put on her sweats and running shoes and headed out of her room. It was when she got to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, did she notice something was odd for the first time. It wasn't that she saw something different, she smelled it instead.

There was food. To be precise, there was a copper pot with a lid sitting on the stove.

Now to an outsider, that wasn't anything to be excited about, but to Nami it was highly unusual. For as long as she lived with him, Sanji never once left anything on the stove. He was very orderly and neat with his kitchen. He never left any pots or utensils laying out and he certainly never left any food outside either.

Nami searched around the kitchen for any Post-It note but didn't see any. Not even the regular note to clean after herself was there. Then she cautiously approached stove and touched it. It didn't feel warm, so she couldn't tell if he actually used his stove to cook.

With a bit of hesitation, she lifted the lid and peeked inside. It smelled marvelous. It was a meaty aroma, thick and rich. She guessed it was a type of stew from the look of the brown sauce. She quietly set the lid back, nervous that she might be caught and then accused of tampering with his pot.

It felt like a trap so she left it alone. She quickly grabbed a water bottle and ran outside for her morning exercise. After her jog, she avoided the kitchen altogether and left for work. The stew was largely forgotten the rest of day.

The day ended on a tiring note. It felt like she was on her feet the whole day, running around the office. She only wanted to skip dinner and sleep. Nami headed to the kitchen for a yogurt when she spotted something sitting on the top shelf of her side of the refrigerator. It was one of her orange Tupperware.

Puzzled, she didn't recall leaving any leftover over the weekend. She would have noticed it before. And she was sure she didn't cook. She pulled the Tupperware out and opened it. The content was the same meat stew she saw this morning. She peered over her shoulder to the stove and found the range empty. The pot was gone.

Did Sanji make it for her to eat?

Now she really thought it was a trap. Why in the world would Sanji do that? She thought back to her last encounter with him.

He did leave her in the French restaurant with a huge bill. She was still very peeved about the whole thing. Did he feel remorseful about it and was now trying to make it up to her?

Possibly, she thought.

She frowned and shut the lid, feeling very uncomfortable about the idea.

He did store it in her Tupperware and put it in her space. And since he went through the trouble cooking it for her, it would be an awful shame not to eat it, right? Plus, she could argue it wasn't her fault if she was wrong.

With the logic all worked out in her head, she microwaved it, ate it and then went to sleep.

The following week, she found another pot sitting on the stove. It was a some kind of a pork dish. This time she took the initiative to put it away in a Tupperware herself, but not before packing some of it for lunch.

This cooking arrangement went on for about a month.

While it was nice of him to cook something for her every Tuesday, he was already over the overdoing it. Nami was starting to feel a little guilty about eating his food, but she had to admit his cooking was superb. She had yet to express her gratitude over his generous gesture. The opportunity never seemed to present itself.

It was on the seventh week that she changed her mind about Sanji's so-called magnanimity.

Eating out, while convenient, wasn't really healthy and over time cost too much money. So naturally, Nami tried to avoid it by cooking at home. In her opinion, it was efficient to cook one large batch, save it and eat it over the course of the week.

One day she got it into her head to prepare chicken Parmesan. It was amazing the kind of meal anyone could make with only a microwave. Unfortunately, there was slight kink in her cooking plan: she didn't have the ingredients. She dug around in the bottom freezer, looking for the chicken breast she bought awhile ago. She was certain she saw it there last week. She checked again and still came up empty-handed. Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the week. Did she use it already and forget about it?

Then she put two and two together. Sanji made her chicken Florentine this week. The week before that it was spaghetti carbonara. She remembered her bacon disappearing rather quickly, but thought nothing of it. She checked cabinet and sure enough she was missing a bag of dried spaghetti.

Annoyed with herself for thinking he was some kind of a Good Samaritan, it wasn't an arrangement she agreed to in the first place. She was bothered he didn't consult her first before randomly taking her things to cook. Even if it was for her.

Things couldn't continue the way it was if he was taking her things. She decided she needed to confront him about it, which meant doing it face to face. She never liked using the Post-It notes like he did. Those yellow sticky paper were too small to convey anything important and she had a few things on her mind.

The best way was to catch him in the act.

Monday night she left the door to her room open as well as the door to the kitchen. If needed, she could miss a few hours of sleep. She survived on far less during her college days.

Brewing up some coffee, she started on her mission to stay awake. Nami wasn't sure when he came home, but she was determined to see him tonight.

It was close to midnight and she was on her third chapter into her mystery novel when she heard the front door. She turned off the light in her room and waited, listening. Sanji went into the kitchen as she expected and she heard the noises. Quietly she moved to the doorway and peered in.

He stood in front of the refrigerator. Both doors were wide open, but he searched only her side of the refrigerator. Sanji took hold of her milk carton, sniffed it and placed it out on the counter. Following that, he took out her tub of cottage cheese, a grapefruit and a head of lettuce

Busted! She caught him red-handed.

She was about to march in there to give him her a piece of mind about stealing food when she stopped. Sanji moved away from the fridge, took her milk carton to the sink and drained it. He tossed the tub, and fruit in the trash.

What was he doing?

Nami pushed the door and walked in. "What are you doing with my food?"

His head turned, a bit surprised to see her but not all that concerned. He continued combing through the shelves. "Cleaning the refrigerator. Something you should learn to do."

"Cleaning?"

"You buy food, but you don't do anything with them. They spoil."

"Spoil?"

"Yes, spoil." He shook his head like he was talking to a child. "Your food spoil and stink up the refrigerator. I've been leaving you notes about it, but you don't do anything about it."

"Those Post-It notes were about the fridge?" she asked in disbelief. That would explain a couple of things, but why didn't she noticed the refrigerator cleaned and the food disposed before all this?

Nami supposed living with her sister, who took care of most of the housecleaning, brought about the incident. Now that she thought about it some more, it made sense. Nami purchased food like she always did and never really thought about it spoiling. It always seemed to take of itself on its own. How silly of her not to realize how much work her sister did to maintain the house.

"I thought you were referring to the kitchen," she said meekly.

"I did leave them on the refrigerator door." Sanji moved onto the freezer.

"Wait. You can't say the meat were spoiled. They're frozen."

"They can spoil, but they also get freezer burn. As a precaution, you should check your canned food. They have expiration dates for a reason."

Nami kept quiet. She didn't exactly know what freezer burn meant and she didn't want to appear ignorant by asking him. She planned on looking the word up later.

"When did you buy this?" Sanji pointed to a frozen fish.

Nami shrugged her shoulders. Was that hers? She didn't remember buying it.

He pulled it out and took a few other things from her side as well as his.

"Sorry if I leave a mess."

"Hmmm." He looked over to her, indicating to the fish. "If you don't mind."

"Oh no. Go ahead."

Rolling up his sleeves, he put on an apron. He defrosted the fish in the microwave and sliced it up and stuck on some lemon and bread crumbs. He took out a pan and turned on the stove. He grabbed a bunch of other things she couldn't name and sprinkled it on the fish.

Nami silently took a seat and watched him from behind. She felt a little bad. She was all set to be the victim, the one who was wronged and now she was shown to be the bad roommate, the one that left the mess. "Why are you doing this? Isn't it easier just to throw them away?"

"It's sad to see food wasted, " he stated simply. "But I should have did something with your food from the start."

"Oh?" Nami found the last part puzzling.

"I haven't cook at home in a long time."

A strange answer, but he didn't elaborate beyond that.

Sanji finished the fish and garnished it. He told her to set the table in the meantime. Nami wasn't sure if her dishware were adequate enough for the occasion, but didn't dare look through his cabinet at his things. She found a couple of oversize dinner plates she never use and grabbed the utensils from the drawer.

He told her over their late night dinner that he would continue to cook for her. Any food she couldn't use just leave on his side and he would care of it. Even if it the reason was simply she didn't have time or didn't feel like cooking.

When she asked if it was too much trouble for him, he explained to her he treated it like a cooking challenge. No matter the ingredient, he could make something good out of it.

Nami promised to be mindful of the food she bought and promised to take better care of the refrigerator from now on. The comment only made him chuckle.

What was funny about that?


	4. Theater Show

Roommates

Saturday was Nami's favorite part of the week. Who didn't like Saturdays? It was the only day she skipped her jog and slept in. Sometimes as late as noon. Anything she had going on at work, she put off until Sunday night. It was the time to relax and unwind. If she was in the right mood, and if there were sales, Saturday was also her shopping day. Clothes, shoes, and books were her guilty pleasures.

Nami kicked off the blanket and finally got out of bed. She had been hiding under the covers, wondering what she should do for the day. She thought it best she did some serious cleaning for once. She wasn't a tidy person by nature, but she still liked things to be organized. Her room was in dire need of vacuuming.

She went out to the hallway closet to grab the vacuum cleaner. The door to Sanji's room was closed as usual. She never saw him on Saturdays. He worked over the weekend, which sucked in her opinion. Being in the restaurant business, it was obvious that he had work the days that most people had off. Weekends and holidays were the the busiest days for restaurants.

Nami got rid of the old paperwork she didn't need and dumped all the dirty clothes in a basket. Laundry was another chore she needed to do. When she got the laundry in the washer, she headed to the kitchen for a late breakfast.

A familiar Post-It note greeted her on the fridge door. Nami hadn't seen one in a while.

She peeled it off the door and read it: Busy Saturday night?

What did Sanji mean by that? It was enigmatic and rather short notice.

Nami wasn't sure what was going on. She wasn't doing anything special tonight, so to answer his question: no she wasn't busy.

Now how was she suppose to let him know? By Post-It note? No. Like she was going to get into writing little notes like him. Text him? She opted out of the a text plan with her cell phone. She would be charged extra for any texting. Voice mail? Forget that. She hated leaving voice mail.

Annoyed with such an obscure question, Nami set the Post-It note back exactly how she found it and decided to pretend she didn't see it. Sanji could ask her properly face to face if he was really serious.

She made a quick ham and cheese sandwich. She killed time by watching television while she waited for the laundry. Nothing interesting was on so she spent most of the time flipping through the channels. By the time she finished all her chores, she felt sleepy and took an afternoon nap.

It was near dinner time when she woke again.

Still in her pajamas, she wandered out of her room and was surprised to see Sanji in his bathroom. He was playing around with his tie in the mirror. He gave her a sideways glance before combing his damp hair.

"Do you sleep this much?"

Nami stretched out her arms, yawning. "I did some chores."

"Oh really."

She didn't like his tone. "Aren't you suppose to be work?"

"I took half the day off. I take it you didn't see my note, but it doesn't matter. You probably wouldn't want to come anyways."

"Come to what? What is it?"

"My friend, he canceled on me. He said he had some work to do so he can't make it to the recital." Sanji shook his head. "I guess I should call it theater. We always have to go to them. Really dumb." He grimaced, playing with his tie again. "I hate going, but he'll get upset if one of us doesn't show up. Not that I care if he gets upset."

"Theater sounds like fun."

"You haven't seen it yet."

It sounded like it was going to be ghastly the way Sanji put it, which only piqued Nami's interest. If he was going to take time off of work to go watch it, there had to be something to it. Besides, it's not like she had anything else to do. Read or watch television, those were her usual weekend options.

She quickly changed into a black cocktail dress and they left in a cab. Sanji didn't say anything and was staring out the window, brooding during the whole ride. Their destination was a small building in a remote part of town. Inside the lobby was filled with pink furniture and drapery. There were other people waiting and conversing. Except for the lady in green, wearing a frog hat, most of them wore causal clothes, making Nami feel overdressed. Sanji didn't say anything to anyone and kept to himself. He looked annoyed or maybe angry.

The usher opened the doors finally let them into theater. The theater was tiny and also decorated pink like the lobby. It probably only seated like 20 people and not all the seats were filled. Nami found a theater programme on her seat, which was also pink and scented like roses, describing the recital. The performance was called, Ode to Spring, and it was written, produced, choreographed and performed all by one person. Maybe it was Shakespearean, she thought.

The audience became silent as the curtains lifted and recorded music started to play.

A tall black-haired man wearing a bright pink unitard and light blue tutu came bounding out on the stage. A pair of swans were attached to the back of his costume. He wore way too much makeup, especially the eyeshadow and lipstick. His cheeks were painted with two pink circular blushes and his eyelashes were long and thick. He looked positively ridiculous. Nami's eyes widened in shock and she turned to look at Sanji.

Was it a comedy?

Sanji, his head propped up with his hand and his sunglasses on, only groaned. "I warned you."

"Un, deux, trois!" he shouted. The dancer's voice crackled and screeched like nails running across a chalkboard.

Nami's mind went numb after that. She vaguely recalled a bizarre dance with the performer uttering a poem. Something about spring, flowers and friendship. It was too painfully to watch and yet somehow impossible to turn away.

The performer rotated, whirled, and spun: an incredibly long pirouette that seemed out of control. Finally the recital ended in a blaze of fireworks and confetti. The audience rose from their seat and applauded, tossing roses at him. Sanji remained motionless like a statue as everyone continued to cheer. Nami managed a weak clap, but only for the sake of appearance.

"I need a smoke," Sanji muttered.

The reception afterward was lively, filled with chatter and lots of alcohol. Sanji disappeared momentarily and bought back a couple of wine glasses. He handed Nami one and she downed it all in one move.

Sanji chuckled at her. He swirled his wine glass around before taking a small sip. "Looks like you needed it more than me."

"Oh my god. What was that?" Nami stared again at the programme. "Bon Kurei is your friend?"

Sanji's mood darkened. "Bon Kurei is his stage name. And Bentham is not my friend. I don't want anything to do with him, but I'm stuck. Made a deal with my friend to come to these shitty recitals."

"But he stood you up?" Nami wondered if his friend was really his boyfriend, but she couldn't squeeze anymore info out him before they were interrupted by the star of the show.

"Sanji Kyun!" Bentham completed five pirouettes to greet them. In addition to his bright pink unitard and swans, he wore a long blue cape. The tutu was thankfully gone from sight.

"Look shithead, say my name right or I'll kick your ass." Sanji was clearly agitated. His hands jammed into his pants pockets.

Bentham only laughed and danced quickly away when Sanji did try to kick him. Bentham blew him a kiss. "Oh Sanji Kyun, you're such a tease. I'm so happy that you came. And who's this cutie you bought along?"

"My roommate, Nami. Nami, this is Bentham," he said with much disinterest.

"Wonderful! You've finally see the light." Bentham waved his hands high over his head and spun around and around. "The flower of love blooms once again!"

"Get it right in your head, dumbass. She's my roommate. Whatever." Sanji stalked off, leaving Nami alone with Bentham.

It took Nami a few seconds to realize the predicament Sanji had left her in. Oh god. What was she suppose to do and say now? She tried not to stare too hard at Bentham or make a strange face. At least he was too busy spinning around to even notice her discomfort. "It was a very interesting performance." It was all she could think of to say to the man.

"Wasn't it. My interpretation of love and spring." Bentham stepped in closer to Nami, batting his long eyelashes at her. "You must come to my next recital. It's called Ode to Summer."

Nami took a step back away from him only to have to him step in closer again. "Well I'm really busy at work." Her mind scrambled for any kind of good excuse, but came up empty.

"But you must come. I'll die if you don't!"

Where was Sanji? She did a quick sweep of the room for the blond man, but she didn't find a trace of him. Did he ditch her here? Still looking for Sanji, she spoke slowly, "If that's the case, maybe you should arrange it with Sanji."

"Speaking of Sanji Kyun, he is always so moody. You should try to fix him up. He's been in a rut for a long time." He put a strong emphasize on the word rut.

"Oh."

"But I'm talking too much. Come let's sing and dance." He tried to grabbed her hands when Sanji cut him off. He moved in so fast and suddenly, it was unearthly.

"Paula is waiting for you. She looks mad," he said smugly.

Bentham slapped his hands to his cheeks and exclaimed, "Wah! Paula! I forgot her!" Again he pirouette his way through the room, adding leaps here and there.

When Bentham was out of hearing range, Nami hissed at Sanji, "Why did you leave me alone with him?"

"Better you than me."

Nami sighed heavily. "Can we leave now? It's obvious none of us wants to be here."

"In a little bit. I want to figure something out before we go. See that man over there. He's been watching us for a while. I'm having a hard time telling if he's gay or straight."

"Who?" she asked, searching the reception room. Sanji tilted his head back and referred to the couple by the hors d'oeure table.

The man in question had orange hair with white fringe. He was dressed in a white suit with an orange bow tie and he wore colored sunglasses. At the moment, he was chatting with a blonde lady balancing an opened parasol on her shoulder.

"He's not my type, but I'm curious if he's looking at me or you."

"Me?"

"You didn't notice? A couple of men were checking you out and Bentham was hitting on you."

"What? He was not hitting on me. How could he? Isn't he gay?"

Sanji frowned. "Bentham is a cross-dresser, but it doesn't mean he's gay. Thank goodness for that." Sanji pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and set it between his lips. "He would be even more annoying than he is now."

"But the way he acts and the clothes he wears, he seems..."

"So gay?" Sanji finished for her. "Tell me, how do I act and what kind of clothes do I wear."

"Hmm..." He did have a good point. Nami could see that now. Sanji's black suit and tie and Bentham's pink unitard and makeup, the two should have switched instead of being what they were now. Appearances were definitely misleading.

"Go flirt with him."

"Huh?" she responded, confused. Then she realized he was still hung up on about the mystery man's sexual orientation. "I will do no such thing. If you're dying to find out about him, why don't you go flirt with him." Honestly, the conversation was getting stupid and she was getting hungry.

"It's no big deal if you do it. If he's gay and you flirt with him, no harm done. If I did it and he's straight. Well, mistakes like those can be troubling." It sounded like he quite familiar with that.

Nami folded her arms over her chest and firmly said, "No. I'm not doing it. What if he was straight. What happens to me? He'll think I'm interested and then I'll be stuck."

"Fine," he grumbled, giving up. "Let's go then."

When they step out of the building, the night was still early, but it was cold. Nami hugged her shoulders and chased after Sanji. She had made a mistake and wore a small bolero jacket instead of something heavier like a pea coat.

"In the mood for Chinese or Italian?" he asked.

"I don't care. Just pick something close by please."

"Chinese it is." He led the way down a narrow scary-looking alley. Nami felt a little nervous walking through the poorly lit area.

The Chinese restaurant was cramp and smoky. There was only a counter with wooden stools and no tables. They had to slide in sideways to get an empty spot. The cook, an elderly man with thin graying hair bought him couple cups and a teapot, along with an ashtray.

Nami wasn't expecting something so old and run-down. And cheap too, after taking a quick glance at menu taped on the walls. The luncheon at the French restaurant had left her with a mixed impression of him. She had him pegged as one of those stuck-up, know-it-all snob. Now she wasn't so sure.

After pouring out the tea, Sanji lit his cigarette, the same one he had pulled at the reception, and took a long, satisfying drag. He held his breath for a moment before letting the smoke stream out.

"Feel better?"

"Much better. I thought I was going to kill someone."

She laughed. "How often do you have to go these recitals?"

"Every few months. It's a pain in the ass. I don't know why anyone goes. It's always the same goddam thing." He smiled warmly at her. "Anyways, thanks for coming."

"I didn't do anything," she blurted. His smile caught her off guard and she suddenly felt embarrassed.

"No, but you were a good distraction. Gave me enough time to find somebody else to babysit Bentham."


	5. A New Friend

Roommates

Nami was on the computer, typing on the keyboard and clicking with the mouse. There were moments when the typing and clicking stopped, and that was when she was shuffling through documents and pages of notes. She peered down at the lower right-hand corner of the computer screen at the clock. She had only 15 more minutes left. She had promised she would be done exactly at 11:30. She was running out of time.

She pushed her glasses back up and continued typing and clicking.

Sanji was waiting. Waiting impatiently. Waiting impatiently behind her. Waiting impatiently behind her while everyone stared at him.

Why didn't he just meet her downstairs in the lobby like she suggested? Instead he snuck by security for the second time and found his way to her cubicle. From somewhere, he stole a swivel chair and was spinning on it like a bored kid.

Like that was going to make her work any faster.

It wouldn't have been so bad had Sanji been quiet and still, but he was making it his business to make sure she knew he was waiting for her. He asked her silly questions and poked his head over her shoulder from time to time just to annoy her. Her coworkers that walked by threw him perturbed and befuddled looks before scurrying away.

It was Wednesday, and it was Sanji's day-off. His friend had invited them both to lunch, his treat, which was all that was needed to convince Nami to go. He was the same friend that was suppose to have gone to the theater with Sanji last Saturday. The lunch was sort of an apology to Sanji for ditching him and a thank you to Nami for going in his stead. That was how Sanji explained it.

Nami glanced over to Sanji, wondering what he was doing. He hadn't said anything to her in awhile. She caught him rubbernecking around the corner of her cubicle. Something, or more likely someone, had attracted his attention.

"He's gay," he said, still distracted.

Nami couldn't believe what she heard. "Be quiet!" she spat at him. She gave up. She quickly logged off the computer and grabbed her purse. There was no way she could finish her work before lunch with Sanji around. "I don't care who's gay."

But out of curiosity, she followed Sanji's line of sight to see who he was referring to.

Nami half-expected him to be Nezumi. It would explain why he was always unfriendly and acted like a total jerk to her. Who she saw was someone completely unexpected: Rayleigh, from maintenance. He was a man in his sixties with long silver hair tied in a ponytail. Right now, he was on her floor, dealing with a burned out ceiling light.

"How can you say something like that? Rayleigh is not gay. He's married and has half dozen or so grandchildren." Rayleigh was a very nice and cheerful man, who at one time had dressed up as Santa Claus for a Christmas party held for the whole building. Nami remembered meeting his wife, Shakky, a lovely dark-haired lady and seeing all their pictures of their children and grandchildren.

"So. It doesn't mean he's not gay," Sanji retorted.

"Yes, it does. He's married and has kids. That disproves your statement."

Sanji rolled his eyes. "Like you never heard of a gay man marrying a woman. Haven't you seen the movie about the two cowboys. It's a lavender marriage, and he's gay."

"Stop saying that. Someone will hear you."

"I don't care." He shrugged his shoulders and went back to spying on Rayleigh.

"Let's go already." Nami walked as fast as she could to the elevator, eager to get Sanji off her floor as quickly as possible. She could just imagine Sanji calling Hatchan gay, or even worst, Arlong.

The restaurant they went to was Italian and well-decorated. The wooden tables were covered with checkered tablecloths and the chairs had leather cushion seats. There were also patio tables with giant umbrellas sticking out from the center if someone wanted to eat outside. The waiter seated them and got them water.

Sanji's friend had yet to make an appearance. Nami scanned the area to see if she saw anyone that could possibly be his friend. She imagined someone neat and dressy and most definitely gay. There were a few men that fit the profile, but none of them made any movement in their direction. Instead, Nami found herself staring at a tall woman, wondering why in the world she was striding up to their table. She was extremely beautiful, probably in her late twenties, with long black hair. She wore a tight blue jeans that fitted perfectly around her butt and a yellow lacy halter top that showed off her smooth slender shoulders.

"Sanji. And this must be Nami," the woman said. Sanji stood up to kiss both of her cheeks before she took a seat opposite from him.

Nami turned to Sanji, confused.

"This is my friend, Robin."

"Nice to meet you," Nami said slowly, unsure of herself. They shook hands. Did she hear wrong? But she was positive Sanji referred to his friend as a he on few different occasions. She quickly pushed her thoughts away and started perusing through the menu.

"I hear you survived another one of Bentham's performance," Robin said. An enigmatic smile came to her lips.

"When can I stopped going to them?"

"When I says so."

Sanji only rolled his head to the side and groaned.

"So how do you two know each other?" Nami asked, taking a sip from her water. The waiter came, took their order and then collected their menus.

"Sanji took one of my classes at the city college."

"Oh? You're a professor. What do you teach?"

"Egyptian history."

"Oh wow. That's interesting." Saying it was interesting was the most polite form of saying it was not that interesting. History was something Nami never did well and in school she avoided the subject whenever she could, opting to take other courses to fulfill her liberal arts requirements. Lucky for her, Robin understood the phrase and changed the subject to something else.

"Tell me. Do you like to dance? I've been trying to get Sanji to go clubbing for a long time."

"Not in a while," Nami replied nonchalantly. In truth, she hadn't gone clubbing in a very long time. It was something she tried a couple of times in college with her dorm mates, but didn't care for. The outrageous entrance fee and the blaring music that left her ears ringing for hours put a damper in her enjoyment. The drinks were the only saving grace, but even then it was somewhat overpriced and limited in selection. Besides, if she wanted a good drink, she could just head to a regular bar for that and not deal with the dancing. She just wasn't a good dancer.

"You should come with us. It's more fun with more people."

"That would be nice," Nami said noncommittally. She checked her watch at the time. They were already half an hour into lunch and still no food. Where was the waiter and the food they ordered? It shouldn't take that long to prepare spaghetti and a couple fettuccine dishes.

"I told you. Nami is a workaholic. She doesn't want to go clubbing."

"It couldn't hurt to ask and it would do you some good if you go out sometimes."

"I like it the way it is," he said dismissively. Sanji pulled out a cigarette and was twirling it in his hand. "You're not going to get either one of us to go clubbing with you. Just let it go, Robert-Robin. Aw shit!"

"Sanji," Robin spoke sharply in a disapproving tone.

Robert? Where did that name come from? Nami definitely heard the name Robert. Now Sanji, looking flustered, was avoiding Robin's angry gaze.

"It's hard," Sanji protested. "Of course I'm going to slip and say it wrong."

"How long has it been?" she demanded.

Sanji sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. His hand raked through his hair in frustration.

"You are definitely going to go clubbing with me after this."

"That's not fair!"

Robin glared at him, silencing Sanji and ending the matter.

What in the world were they talking about? It felt like she had walked in the middle of the conversation, but she hadn't. None of it made any sense to Nami and it was very apparent on her face how lost she was.

Sanji and Robin exchanged looks with each other and then he cleared his voice. "Why don't you explain your situation. I'm sure Nami will be okay with it."

Robin quietly studied her for a moment before replying. "By all means. Why don't you do the honors."

Sanji grimaced and he cleared his voice again. There was a long pause of silence as he tried to figure out what to say. Both women stared expectantly at him. He opened his mouth to begin, but closed it when nothing came out.

Finally, he uttered it all out in one breath. "Robin use to be a man."

It took Nami a few seconds to digest his words and then she laughed. "Get out of here. What's going on?"

"So eloquently done," Robin stated sardonically. Her eyes darkened slightly at Sanji. He sheepishly shrugged his shoulders and decided to focus all his attention on his drink.

Nami took turns looking at them. Sanji swirled his drink so that the ice cubes in his drink clinked together, trying to appear cool and relaxed. All the while, Robin calmly watched on, saying nothing. Neither one laughed. They didn't even crack a tiny smile. Were they serious? She looked at them again. They were dead serious!

"You were a man?" Nami asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Robin nodded her head. "I'm afraid so."

"No, you're not. You don't look anything like a man." Nami did a quick look at Robin. Her voice, the slim hour-glass figure, the big boobs, the delicate facial feature: they were all very feminine. There was nothing remotely masculine about her. No Adam's apple that she could see. No five o'clock shadow. The only thing unusual about her was her height. She was much taller than Sanji, which was very tall for a woman.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Robin said, smiling sweetly.

"You aren't pulling my leg?" This wasn't like Bentham, who liked dressing up like a woman. This was something far beyond it.

Robin shook her head and replied somberly, "No, I am not." Her smile disappeared.

Nami felt bad and stopped questioning her after that.

The conversation downgraded to a simple question and answer type of talk. It was safe and it filled the unnerving silence with pointless chatter. Their pasta finally arrived for all three of them and they ate politely with only Sanji commenting on the sauce. He said he could do better. Nami spent the majority of time trying not to stare at Robin, telling herself to act normal. It wasn't like she was having lunch with a wanted criminal.

Things got easier when the topic switched to clothes, especially shoes. Robin paid her a nice compliment on her brand new sandals, which pleased Nami very much. No one at work ever noticed them. But of course all of her co-workers were men so what did she expect.

Sometimes Nami forgot how hard it was to be the only female at work. Having to put up with all the testosterone, the juvenile jokes, and the macho bragging. She put up a fake face and laughed at their antics, but deep down she was dying for some female companionship. Someone sensible to talk to.

Time flew by quickly and before Nami knew it, she was very late getting back to work. She was surprised to discover they had a lot of things to talk about. She and Robin had a few things in common and they dominated the conversation. Work, clothes, books, and whatever else that popped into her head. Nami had almost completely forgotten about the shocker that was dropped in the beginning and was herself again.

But Nami still couldn't quite believe what Sanji told her and had tons of questions she wanted to ask Robin. At the moment, she felt too awkward about it. When Robin brought the topic back to clubbing, Nami agreed, with a little hesitation, to give it a go. This bought a smile to Robin's face.

Sanji was left out in most of the talk, but he didn't seem to mind all that much.


	6. Birthday Challenge

Roommates

Nami sat at the table in the kitchen and took another sip of her warm coffee. She was up earlier than usual on that Saturday morning, awoken by the smell of baking. Sanji was baking a cake. A birthday cake to be precise.

While she was content to let him be and to sleep a couple more hours, the smell permeated throughout the whole apartment and she found it almost impossible to ignore it. She rose from her bed, washed up and changed clothes before heading into the kitchen to see how things were going.

Nami watched Sanji work for an hour and she had to admit it was rather fascinating. He was always on the move, pacing back and forth between the refrigerator, the panty, the cupboard and the counter. Mixing bowls, utensil, spices, and baking pans took the majority of the space on the counter. For someone who had only seen cake made from a packaged cake mix, it was an educational experience to see one being made completely from scratch.

Cooking, Nami always thought of as a strange branch of science she couldn't quite understand or master. Sure, there were many cookbooks and television programs that explained how it was done, but it still felt strange and unfamiliar whenever she did try to cook.

If she thought of cooking on a purely scientific level, it made some sense to her. Mixing the appropriate amount of components and putting it all under a controlled heat to produce a chemical reaction. It didn't necessarily mean it was something delicious, but definitely something edible.

After watching Sanji in action, Nami had a different opinion. Cooking was an art. Whether he had the cake recipe memorized by heart or simply moved by instinct, it was simply genius.

The cake he was making was a chocolate raspberry. Just looking at it, gave her a toothache. It was seven layers high and it was covered in a dark rich frosting. Sanji was putting on the finishing touches with the pastry bag. Little balloons, palm trees, and dinosaurs hand-drawn with icing. He was very focused with his work, even with her chatting in the background.

Since it was Usopp's birthday cake he was making, naturally the topic would be about their mutual friend. She asked Sanji various things like what they did in high school, and what they were like when they were younger. He regaled her with a few anecdotes.

By accident, Nami carelessly blurted something she should have kept quiet about. Sanji stopped writing out the letters to 'Happy Birthday' on the cake and he turned to give her a funny look.

"He told you that?"

"Uh. Well, he kind of mentioned it to me once. It's no big deal," Nami said, trying to smooth things over. "We all have our silly crushes."

Sanji snorted and shook his head. "That lying shithead."

"He was lying?" Nami stared at him in disbelief.

Usopp was known to spin wild tales. They were all harmless and in good fun so she didn't mind them. Everyone who heard his stories had a good laugh and they generally put a bright smile on people's faces. But this lie was different. It served no purpose and it might have been something spontaneous with no real thought behind it.

Sanji put down the pastry bag and wiped his hands clean with a kitchen towel. "I don't suppose you were ever madly in love with him?"

"Excuse me?" Nami paused. It was her turn to give Sanji a funny look.

"But he had to turn you down for your own good, because your school grades were suffering," he continued.

"What! He said that?" Nami put down her coffee and her hands fell to her lap. "Are you kidding me?"

Sanji smirked at her. "I didn't think so."

"What possessed him to make up stories like that?"

"Who knows." Sanji presented the cake to her and asked, "How does it look?"

"It looks great," Nami responded without really giving it a good examination. She was still mulling over what Usopp told them. It was annoying her. No, more like grating on her nerves.

Sanji was searching the cabinets for a container for the cake and found a large flattened out cardboard box. As he was unfolding it, Nami snapped at him. "Aren't you a little mad at him?"

"What's the point? It's what he does. I got use to it years ago."

"Well, I feel like doing something to him," Nami said. She took another gulp of her coffee and stared determinedly at him.

Sanji placed his hands on his hips. "Like what?"

Nami stopped and had to think for a long time. She wanted to teach Usopp a lesson, but it had to be done in such a way that related to his lying. It would be pointless to try to tell lies about Usopp. She doubt neither she or Sanji could match his crazy imagination. Besides, Usopp would only laugh and poke fun at their attempt. What she wanted was to embarrass him. Embarrass him so badly that he would never think to lie like that ever again.

Then the idea finally hit her. Since Usopp was so keen about telling them how amorous they were about him, why not make it happen for him. Why not show him how much they loved him in ways that were beyond reason.

Sanji was waiting patiently for her, sipping his tea. He had finished boxing the cake and sat down on the opposite side from her. The cake box was neatly tied with a red string and was sitting on the table between them.

Nami gave Sanji a sly smile and explained her idea to him.

After she was done, Sanji was tapping his chin and grinning. "Interesting. I admit, it has possibilities."

"So you wanna try it with me?"

Sanji chuckled quietly. "I know I can do it. I don't know about you. Seems to be out of your element."

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded, her voice rising.

"Nami, how many times have you flirted with a man?"

"I know how it's done," Nami said, slightly offended. She knew the tricks. After all, she was taught by the best. Bellimere would slap Sanji silly if she heard him say that. "Is this because I wouldn't flirt with that man at the recital?"

Eyes averted, Sanji remained quiet and took their cups to the sink to be cleaned.

His silence pissed her off. "I can do it better than you." Sanji made her so mad. Just because he was gay, he thought he was all special and had the upper hand. Nami would wiped that smile off that face of his.

"Oh, do I hear a challenge?" He turned to face her.

"Yes, it is. In fact, why not make a bet out of it. Whoever can crack Usopp first wins. Loser has to-" she hesitated, trying to think of a suitable prize. "Loser has to take out the trash permanently."

Sanji whistled. "Pretty big bet. You're sure about it? I know how much you hate taking out the trash."

"I am."

"Then I accept your challenge." They shook hands on it.

The moment Nami stepped into her room, she instantly regretted her hasty words. Permanent trash duty, the words echoed depressingly in her mind. But she shouldn't be pessimistic. She needed a battle plan if she wanted to win. More importantly, she needed something good to wear.

Nami dug around the her dresser and then the closet, looking for a particular article of clothing. She wore it only once since its initial purchase so its current whereabouts was hard to determine. She finally found it stuffed in an old purse she never used. A strange place to be. She put it on and then knotted together the corners of her yellow shirt to show off her midriff. To complete her attire, a pair Capri pants. She checked herself in the mirror and decided it would do. Classy, but alluring.

When Nami was done fixing her hair, she grabbed her shoulder bag and headed to the living room. Apparently, she wasn't the only one dressing up.

Sanji had changed out of his clothes he wore earlier before and was now in black pants and a blue pinstriped shirt. Nothing unusual until she saw his tie: a light blue, Hawaiian tie with a hula girl printed at the bottom. The hula girl was playing a ukulele underneath a palm tree. Nami heard stories about the existence of such neckties but never actually seen one in person. It was definitely different from his stylish fashion.

He caught her staring at his tie. "It was an old birthday present from Usopp," he told her.

"Oh."

They headed to subway and got off the train after half an hour. They weren't lucky enough to find any seats so they were standing throughout the whole ride. Nami ended up bumping into Sanji and his cake box several times. Even on the weekend, the train was loaded with commuters and tourists.

The birthday party was held at an amusement center called, The Little Garden. It had arcades, go-karts, batting cages, and miniature golf. Basically, a place for families to have fun and enjoy themselves. It was packed with screaming children and their screaming parents. Nami and Sanji stuck out like a couple of sore thumbs.

A young blonde woman greeted them and led them to a room she rented for the party.

"Sanji, Nami. It's so good that you could make it."

"Kaya, good to see you again," Sanji said and kissed her on both her cheeks. He handed her the cake box. "Where's Usopp?"

"Somewhere with the boys. You know how he is," Kaya said, a thin young woman close to Nami's age. She grew up in the same the town as Usopp.

"I can imagine. How many birthdays now? Four? Five?" Nami asked. She glanced toward the food concessions and then arcades, looking for Usopp. "Isn't he tired of this place yet?"

"Usopp has been here seven times." Kaya laughed gently. "And no, he's not tired of it. He looks forward to it every year. He and the triplets love this place."

The triplets were three boys that hung around Usopp and Kaya in their hometown. Piiman, Tamanegi and Ninjin weren't actually triplet, they didn't even look alike. Only their ages were similar. But the three were always together, they might as well been brothers.

"I see him. He's over there by the UFO machine," Sanji said, pointing him out in the distance.

"You two go on ahead and say hi to him. I'm going to get the food ready."

Sanji wasted no time and advanced towards him. Nami trailed behind him, her hands clasped behind her back, wondering how things were going to turn out. Should be loads of fun, she thought.

Usopp was immersed in the UFO machine, angling the claw over one of the stuff dinosaur toy. He didn't notice neither Sanji or Nami. The triplets were quiet and focused on the every move the claw made.

"Usopp, happy birthday! It's been a long time." Sanji smacked him on his back.

Usopp jerked and lost control. The claw dropped down and came back up empty-handed, causing the boys to moan in disappointment.

"Shoot, Sanji! You made me miss."

Sanji feigned an innocent smile and lightly touched Usopp's shoulder. "Looking good. Have you been working out?"

"You bet! I've got arms of steel. Feel these muscles." Usopp flexed his arms like a bodybuilder.

It took Nami a bit of self-restraint to keep from laughing out loud. She did feel his muscles. Quite flabby.

Flirting was more than just pick up lines, compliments and smiles. There was eye contact and body language to consider. A glance here and there to attract attention. Touching was another subtle tactic that could either make or break. A simple touch to the hand or arm could drive a man wild. Too much touching and it became creepy.

And finally, above all else, be confident and bold. No one got anywhere by sitting back and watching.

And Sanji was that. Extremely bold. He was touching Usopp every chance he got, laughed at all his silly jokes and stood close to him as much as possible. He went as far as to lean into Usopp a couple of times. At first, Usopp was either too stupid or too oblivious to notice what Sanji was doing. He seemed only interested in telling the same old stories to anyone who would listen. Like the time he hit a hole in one at the volcano golf course or when he got a prefect score at the basketball arcade. When it was time for cake, did Usopp feel the strange vibe and freak out.

"What's wrong? Don't you like my cake?" Sanji had forkful of his chocolate cake and was attempting to feed Usopp.

Usopp's eyes widened and he stared at the fork in Sanji's hand. "Uh...ah...uh..." he babbled.

"Come on now. Open wide." Sanji brought the fork up to Usopp's mouth. His mouth didn't budge.

"Oh my god! Look, they have a Pac Man arcade here." Usopp ran off, dragging Tamanegi with him. The poor kid was protesting the whole way. "One time, I made it through 1000 levels of Pac Man on one quarter. Wanna see me do it again?"

"No!" Tamanegi screamed. Tried as much as he could, he couldn't get away from Usopp.

After that, Usopp held a sizable distance from Sanji and kept one of the boys with him at all time. Almost like a human shield. If Kaya noticed anything strange, she didn't say anything. Though she did have a confused look on her face most of the time.

While Sanji was messing with Usopp, it wasn't that Nami wasn't doing anything herself. She managed to catch him here and there by playing with his long hair and giving him teasing smiles. She even bumped her foot against his under the table more than a few times.

But the way women flirted was different from the way men did it so there needed to be adjustment on Nami's part if she wanted to win. She had to be aggressive and pursue like a man. Still, it was a lot of fun watching Usopp sweat. He was getting very nervous and scared of Sanji.

With Usopp on high alert against Sanji's advances, it was her chance to move in for the kill. The opportunity presented itself nicely when it was time for pictures.

Kaya waved everyone together. She was holding a small digital camera. "Let's get a group picture."

Usopp made to sure to place all three boys between him and Sanji, which left Nami standing right next to him. Kaya clicked a few shots of them. Then Sanji asked for a picture with just Usopp and him.

There was a momentary flash of panic when Usopp heard his request.

Nami intervened. "Ladies first, Sanji."

Sanji nodded, but there was a hint of suspicion in his eyes. He and the three boys stepped behind Kaya and waited.

Usopp smiled and relaxed. He confidently placed his arm around Nami shoulders and pulled her closer for the picture. Kaya grinned warmly and took the shot.

"Can I get another one? I think I blinked."

"All right. Ready?" Kaya brought up the camera once again and put it in focus. "One, two, three...cheese."

Nami quickly unbuttoned her shirt and opened up it, revealing what she was wearing underneath: light blue bikini. A very tiny bikini.

And in a move that would have made Bellimere exceedingly proud, Nami grabbed Usopp's head and smothered him against her ample bosom, right in front of everyone. She held him tightly there, feeling him struggle a bit in shock. The effect was immediate.

Usopp broke. Broke like a pinata.

"What are you doing?" Usopp screeched, his face turning red and his voice shaking. He pulled away from Nami and turned to stare at his girlfriend. Kaya gasped and dropped her camera, her fingers touching her cheek. Lucky for her, the strap was looped around her wrist, otherwise the camera would have landed on the floor.

And Kaya wasn't the only person dropping things. Ninjin dropped his ice cream cone.

"I can't help myself," Nami said drily. "I'm so madly in love with you."

At first, Usopp was nonplussed, but slowly it dawned on him as her words sank in his brain. He looked at Nami and then to Sanji and realized the gig was up. Everything that had happened to him made sense now and he laughed sheepishly. Sanji only smiled and shook his head. At her or Usopp, Nami didn't know.

After a lot of explaining, apologizing, and begging on Usopp's part, things seemed to have settle down. Kaya was a good sport, but did ask that the next time they wanted to prank Usopp, to please let her in on it.

One of the triple came up to Nami. "Can we get a picture with you?" Ninjin asked shyly.

Nami rolled her eyes. How old was this kid? She had gotten quite a few stares from strangers after her little stunt. "That would be ten dollars." She held her palm out to him.

"Ten dollars?" Ninjin hesitated and then ran back to other two boys. They bowed their heads together and conversed with each other in a secretive fashion. The three of them returned a moment later and handed her the money in bills and coins.

"That's ten dollars each!"

"What!" Piiman exclaimed. "How come Usopp didn't have to pay?"

"Well it's his birthday. Of course he's going to get it for free." Nami shook her head. Finally they gave up, took back their money and wandered off towards the direction of the go-karts.

Nami buttoned up her shirt and tucked it in. She swore she heard the male population sigh disappointingly in unison.

Sanji had disappeared and Nami thought some good looking guy had caught his attention. Instead she found him at the batting cages. She quietly took a seat by the cage and watched him swing. He made sharp loud ping every time the metal bat connected with the baseball.

"That's almost like cheating what you did," Sanji said as he stepped in to swing at another ball. "There's no way I can compete against _those_."

Nami snorted. "It's not like you couldn't do the same thing."

"I don't see how that's possible."

"You just didn't think of it. That's why you're sore."

Sanji blinked. He still didn't understand her meaning.

Nami tossed her head back and laughed. The answer was so simple to her. "You could have just gone shirtless and done the same thing."

Sanji looked at her like she had gone mad. "Shirtless," he repeated.

"Yes, shirtless," she said firmly.

He gave it more thought and conceded, "If had the figure for something like. Maybe."

If he had the figure? What was Sanji babbling about? From where Nami sat, she could clearly see he was no slouch. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, his arms showed definite form and muscle. And the way he swing the bat meant he must have played some sport before.

Nami supposed that even men, just like women, felt self-conscious about their appearance. With all his fancy clothes, there still lingered a bit of insecurity. Of course she could have told Sanji that he looked fine and that he had the figure to go shirtless and drive both women and gay men wild, but then she would have admit that she was checking him out.

And Nami certainly was not checking him out.

NOTES:

Oh my god! I made it. I was planning to release this on April 1st, you know who's birthday. This chapter was not originally in the plan, but someone had to ask if Usopp was lying or not and I was thinking, "Really? You have to ask if he was lying." And boom this thing born. Man, it turned out long.


	7. Just Dance

Roommates

To Nami's dismay, Robin had followed through on her word. Nami had hoped the whole clubbing idea was just idle talk, nothing serious, but she was wrong. The following week after their lunch, Robin called Sanji to schedule a date that was good for all three of them to meet up.

Nami tried to be evasive, dropping excuses like meetings and assignments, but none of them were very convincing. Sanji was either not getting her hints, or completely ignoring her wishy-washy answers. It felt more like the later.

Sanji kept pressing her for a day until she relented. Nami had secretly hoped Sanji would back out, since initially he voiced objections over it, but he showed little or no resistance over the phone. He even seemed in good spirits about it.

With the calendar clearly circled with a marker, Nami's fate was sealed. Like it or not, she was going to go clubbing with them.

It wasn't that Nami was trying to avoid Sanji's friend. Robin was clearly an intelligent, though somewhat mysterious individual. Truthfully, Nami did feel a little awkward thinking about certain details of Robin's...situation. Did Robin prefer the company of men or women? Or maybe both? Could she possibly view Nami with any particular interest? Nami quickly pushed the idea away.

Too much thinking, she told herself. Just concentrate on getting dressed.

Admittedly, since Nami started work, she had little time for a social life. Maybe it would do her some good. Maybe she would enjoy it. Maybe a natural disaster could hit, canceling the whole thing.

Nami sighed heavily. Right now, finding something to wear was a bit of a challenge for her.

Nami looked at her wardrobe, which consisted mostly of pants, shirts, and sweaters. She owned one pleated skirt that she wore to job interviews. Not something she could wear for a night out on the town. Her all-purpose black cocktail dress, while good for most occasions, was something she already wore before.

Nami dug around her closet and then her dresser. She finally settled on a pair of jeans that had rhinestones embedded on the back pockets and white blouse. They were showy enough not to look too casual. And since there was to be some dancing later in the night, Nami picked out some comfortable shoes.

The restaurant Nami arrived at was noisy and crowded. One of Sanji's peers at work had recommended it to him. It being popular, he had to make reservations a few days in advance. It was one of those new age fusion type restaurant, looking very model and sophisticated. The menu consisted of a blend dishes from different Asian countries.

Nami entered the establishment, feeling a little nervous and out of place. The waiter led her to the back of the restaurant to their table. Robin and Sanji were already seated, waiting for her.

"You found it. We were getting concerned," Robin said. She wore a red cowl-neck dress with an open back. The hemline of her dress was high, showing off much of her shapely legs. Nami suddenly felt so plain and boring compared to her.

"No thanks to Sanji's directions," Nami said as she sat down.

Sanji peered up from his drink and lightly shrugged his shoulders. In a rare appearance, he had gone without wearing a necktie. The top two buttons of his turquoise shirt were left unbuttoned.

"After a quick meal, we will head to a club I found nearby," Robin explained. "It has excellent reviews."

Sanji's eyes darted up suddenly to stare straight at Robin. "You mean we're not going to the Body Shop," he said, sounding very upset.

Robin's eyebrow arched and her voice became stern. "I don't believe Nami would feel very comfortable going to our usual dance club."

"It's okay," Nami cut in. She had a good idea what this Body Shop was, and she was pretty sure it had nothing do with cars. "I'm not feeling that great. I'll just catch cab and head home after dinner. You two can go on without me."

"We wouldn't dream of it, Nami. After all, we can all have fun," Robin said and she turned to face Sanji. "Isn't that right, Sanji."

Sanji only sunk down in his chair and groaned.

Dinner was good, but the conversation was limited. Sanji spent the majority of the time sulking and ignoring them. A couple times Nami tried to pull him, but he made it perfectly clear he wasn't interested. Instead he lazily watched the random men that moved near their table.

How annoying. It wasn't her fault that they weren't going to the Body Shop. Nami could have stayed home like she wanted to had he simply just made up some excuse to Robin. Now they were both stuck going to a place they didn't want to go.

By the time they were done paying the bill, the skies were dark. They left the restaurant with Robin leading the way and Sanji lagging behind. Robin pulled Nami by her side as they walked and she linked her arm with Nami's. Robin looked over her shoulder to grin at Sanji before turning back to face the front.

Leaning down, Robin whispered to Nami, "You don't need to concern yourself with Sanji. He tends to be temperamental over the most trivial of things."

"If he really wants to go to that other dance club-"

"Absolutely not. We shouldn't spoil him and let him have what he wants. He'll be entirely unbearable to be around if he always got his way." Robin squeezed her arm. "Everything will be all right."

The cab ride was quiet, but thankfully short. When they got to their destination, there was a long line at the front door. The dance club, known simply as Mirrorball, was loud and flashy. This Nami could tell from just the outside.

"There are so many women here," Sanji moaned unhappily. He had an unlit cigarette between his lips and his hands in his pockets.

True, Nami noted. There did seem to be more women than men, which seemed kind of odd to her. It wasn't until they reached the door did find out why. The entrance fee was waived for the ladies. Score one point for the club.

Despite the crowd, they managed to snag a small table for themselves. Nami and Robin settled in their seats while Sanji ran off to get drinks for everyone.

"Looks lively," Nami managed to say, trying to act relaxed and cheery. She looked warily at the dance floor. It was half full with mostly women dancing in groups. The music sounded like something from the seventies.

"Yes it does," Robin said, smiling a little. She eyed the dance floor with great interest, almost appearing pleased with herself.

It wasn't long before tall good-looking fellow approached their table and asked Robin to dance. Robin turned to give a questioning look to Nami.

Nami waved them away. "Go on. I'll wait for Sanji."

Nami silently watched her walk out onto the floor and start to dance. Just like that.

The way Robin moved. It was so confident. It was so effortless. Like second nature. And in the midst of her awe, she thought depressingly, what she was doing here? She was like a fish out of water. She couldn't do what Robin just did. She felt so hopeless.

Sanji appeared and broke her out of her trance. He handed her a cocktail, which Nami gladly took from him and immediately drank. It was fruity and a little too sweet for her taste, but she didn't care. It gave her something to do while she sat.

"Already dancing, I see," Sanji said nonchalantly, referring to Robin. She had changed partner and was dancing with another man wearing baggy pants and baseball cap.

Nami murmured her acknowledgment without really looking at him. The music had changed, becoming slower. At that point, most of the group dancers left the floor, preferring the upbeat and fast music.

Sanji swirled his scotch and then took a deep swig, before setting his drink on the table. He cleared his throat. "Come on. Let's get it over with." He got up and reached his hand out to Nami.

Nami blinked in confusion and she could only stare at his hand. What was he talking about? And then it hit her. "I don't dance," she said flatly, taking an unconcerned sip from her drink.

"Why?" Sanji asked simply.

She wanted to say she had a rare disease that caused her ankles swell up like balloons if she ever try to move in a rhythmical motion. But somehow she doubted Sanji would buy it and it sounded too stupid, like something Usopp would say.

Sanji was still standing there, waiting for her answer.

"I don't know how," Nami said finally. Maybe now he would leave her alone, but he didn't.

"So. Most of the people here don't know how either. That's not stopping them."

"Right," Nami said as she rolled her eyes. She supposed Sanji was an expert dancer as well as an expert cook.

"Look. Let's try to have a little fun while we're here."

Nami saw that he wasn't going to budge. Was he going to stand there all night, waiting for her to get her butt off the chair and move? She threw Sanji an exasperated look and gave in. She took one last sip from her drink, before heading to the dance floor with him.

The whole thing was awkward in so many ways. First, the music that was playing was something Nami had never heard before. She didn't know how she was suppose to move. She tried following the beat, but just couldn't find the rhythm. Second, it felt like everyone was staring at her. Of course, they weren't. She was being silly and paranoid, but she couldn't get that feeling out of her head. And third, Sanji grinning at her like she was making a fool out of herself, which he had better not be.

"You really can't dance." Sanji laughed lightly.

That did it. Nami stopped and shot him such an angry look that it made him flinch. She turned to march her way back to the table. She was going to sit the rest of the night, drink massive amounts of alcohol and forget that she even tried to dance. Even if the whole world was going to end that very night, she wasn't going to try again.

"No, no. It was a joke." But it was too late. Sanji was talking to the back of her head.

Nami was pushing past several couples, hoping to herself that no one had commandeered their table while they were away. Men could be so stupid sometimes, even the gay ones. She decided she needed another drink, something stronger, and she changed direction for the bar. It was then she felt someone grab her wrist and pull her back.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding very sincere.

Before Nami realized it, they back where they started. How he managed to get her there without a word of protest from her was a mystery. She was only aware of how tightly Sanji was holding her and how close he was to her. So close that she could smell the scent his cologne along with a faint whiff of burnt cigarette. Nami felt warm and nervous.

The music changed to a faster beat and Sanji released his hold on her waist, but still held onto her hands. "Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes!" Nami snapped, glancing up at him. For some weird reason, she had avoided looking him in the face. She saw his concerned face and she softened. "Well maybe just a little mad."

Sanji relaxed and smiled.

It wasn't so bad after that. They danced to another song with Sanji guiding her along, encouraging her. His mood had changed and he was being much nicer to her. It was almost fun.

Later Nami found Robin taking a little break and enjoying her drink. Robin smiled warmly when she saw Nami wandered back to the table.

Nami took a seat and scanned the crowd. She noticed the ratio of women and men were still uneven. There were often time multiple women dancing with one man. A paradise for any man that came in here. Like prime real estate, Sanji was a hot commodity. So it wasn't strange that he was snatched up by many different women. Much to Sanji's displeasure.

"How is it? Enjoying yourself?" Robin asked. She raised her voice over the loud music.

"It's okay." Nami smiled slightly. A few more drinks loosened her up and she was feeling much better. She was even approached by a few men to dance, which wasn't as difficult as she initially thought.

"Where is Sanji? I don't see him anywhere."

"Hmm..." The last time Nami saw him, a trio of girls, who couldn't stop laughing, ran up and dragged him away. Sanji silently mouthed a desperate plea for help to her, but Nami only smiled, flapped her fingers at him, and watched him vanish into the crowd.

"It doesn't matter. He'll turn up eventually," Robin said.

Eventually turned out to be a lot longer than expected. Nami was on her way to the bar for another round of drinks when she spotted Sanji. He stood closely to a younger man, smiling and laughing. Nami wasn't sure if she should have approached him and decided against it. He looked busy.

Nami took another look back at Sanji before quickly picking up the drinks and heading back to the table.

"What's wrong?" Robin asked. She had let her long hair down and was stretching her slender arms in the air.

"It's nothing. I found Sanji. I think he found a new friend."

Robin only grinned wickedly. "Indeed."

Nami looked towards the crowd. The dance floor was packed to the point where there was barely any room to move. People were squeezing and shoving, trying to dance. And if they weren't dancing, they were drinking and shouting at each other.

Suddenly Nami felt exhausted and bored, just watching them. "You think we can call it night? I'm getting tired."

Robin nodded thoughtfully in agreement. "We should let Sanji know we are leaving."

The line at the coat check-in was long. Mostly with people coming in rather than leaving. Nami volunteered to retrieve their coats while Robin went to find Sanji. Nami checked her watch and frowned. The clerk was taking his sweet time looking for their coats. Twice he came back with the wrong coats. When he finally managed to get them right, Robin appeared with Sanji in tow.

A little surprised to see him, Nami had assumed he would be staying.

Sanji was very elated. He was positively beaming. Better than Nami had ever seen him before. He linked arms with Robin and draped his other arm over Nami's shoulders as they left the dance club.

"You met someone," Robin said.

"Maybe," he said coyly.

"I told you would have fun."

Sanji didn't say anything, but he winked at her.

"What about you, Nami? How was the evening?"

A loud angry voice broke their conversation.

"Hey, you! Faggot!"

Sanji stopped and stiffened at the disparaging word. He slowly let go of Robin and Nami and turned around. There were two men. Nami recognized one of them. He was the same young man Sanji was talking to earlier. Before he was full of smiles and enthusiasm. Now he was frantic and nervous. He was desperately struggling with an older man, pulling at his arm.

"Nothing happened. We were just talking. Come on. Let's go back inside."

The older man, red-faced from too much drinking, ignored him and continued shouting. "I'm talking to you, queer. What do you think you're doing messing with my brother?"

"Let's just go," Nami said, grasping Sanji's hand. She didn't like the look of the situation.

"I agree. No need to listen this," Robin said. She glared at them with great intensity.

Sanji kept quiet, eyeing both men and considering. Nami could hear him scuffing his shoes. "My mistake," he said finally. "No harm done."

"I'll give you a mistake!"

Nami panicked when the bigger man ran towards Sanji. His fists were swung back ready to punch him in the face.

"Look out!" Nami screamed.

Then he was suddenly moving backwards, which didn't make any sense to Nami. He landed with a thud on the sidewalk, groaning and clutching his stomach in pain. The younger brother ran up to him, shouting his name. "Are you all right? Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

Sanji grabbed Robin and Nami and walked them away from the small scene that was forming around the two men. "I guess we won't be coming back here again. Who's up for some gelato?"

Nami was a little shaken to say anything and still not sure what had happened. No one really said anything after the incident at the dance club. Sanji sadly had became reserved. Nami wanted to say something to cheer him up, some words of encouragement, but she couldn't think of an appropriate thing to say.

Ignore those losers. There are plenty of fish in the sea. There's someone for everyone. Your Mr. Right is out there. All pretty lame.

It was a little Italian restaurant still opened late at night. There were still a few people having a late dinner inside. The waiter seated them near the window and took their orders for ice cream and coffee. After he left, Sanji ran off to the back of the reception desk and returned with a waste bin.

"What are you doing?" Nami asked, puzzled by his action.

Sanji didn't answer and only started pulling out various business cards and cocktail napkins from his pockets and tossed them all in the trash.

Robin smiled faintly. "So how many did you get this time?"

"Why don't we count," Sanji replied sardonically. He peered in the trash and counted off all things he threw in there. "Only nine."

Nami noticed those napkins had writings. Names and phone numbers. Then it dawned on her what he was doing.

"What about you, Nami?"

"Huh? What about me?" Nami asked. The coffee had finally arrived and she was carefully taking a sip.

"I saw. You must have gotten at least one or two."

Nami rolled her eyes. She reached back and pulled out a crumpled mass of paper from her back pocket. She had been planning to throw them all away in the restroom, but forgot. "Just three."

Sanji whistled. "Not bad for a first timer."

Nami gave him a halfhearted laugh and then she threw her wad of paper in like a basketball. It landed perfectly in the middle of the waste bin. Sanji stared at her in dismay.

"What are you doing?"

"The same thing you were doing."

"You're not going to call any of them? What a waste," Sanji moaned.

"I'm not going out with anyone I met at a club," Nami said firmly. She wasn't going out period.

Nami wasn't going to admit it to either Sanji or Robin, but she tried the dating thing in college and she did not like it. The guy was all wrong for her in every logical way, but tried it because he was funny and everyone was pushing at her to give him a chance. Ultimately, she ended the relationship with only two semesters left before graduation, feeling very stressed and pissed at the guy. Looking back at it, it was pretty unfair of her to blame everything on him, but it was an experience she did not want to deal with again.

"Out of all of us here, you're the only one with no..." Sanji trailed, trying to think of the right word. "Handicap."

Robin flashed Sanji a dark look.

"What else do you want to call it?" Sanji asked in his defense.

"No. I'm not calling anyone," Nami said abruptly, ending the matter. Sanji and Robin briefly exchanged perplexed looks to one another, which she pretended not to see. At least the coffee and gelato were good.


	8. Neighbors

Roommates

Thursday was the day Nami did the grocery shopping. Cereal, bread, milk, meat and frozen vegetable. Sometimes a couple of frozen dinners, which Sanji snorted at whenever he saw them.

Nami got off the subway and walked a couple blocks to her apartment building. The day was so clear and warm. She would have liked to take a nice walk around the block to look at the shops, but she was busy. Always busy. She juggled the two bags of grocery in one arm while trying to find her keys in her purse. It was no easy feat. She was about to give up and set the bags on the floor when the front door swung open for her.

A very tall elderly man held the door for her. He was extremely skinny with a mass of curly dark hair. He tipped his top hat and smiled, showing off a row of perfect white teeth.

Nami thanked him as she walked by. She ran into the friendly gentleman more than a few times, opening the door for her, holding the elevator and greeting her with a pleasant smile but she didn't know his name. The encounters had gone on for so long, she was too embarrassed to ask for his name at this point. She had been to meaning to ask Sanji, but the thought always slipped her mind.

Back in the apartment, Nami slipped off her shoes, tossed her shoulder bag on the chair and dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table. She was hungry, but too tired to make anything to eat. Glancing around the kitchen for something quick to munch on, she spotted something hanging on the fridge door.

Sanji had left her a Post-It note.

It was a simple request from him: Drop off some clam chowder for a neighbor. The soup was in a pot, sitting on the stove with a lid on top. Nami took a peek inside. It was still hot and it smelled wonderful.

The lucky bastard, Nami thought, wistfully eyeing the soup.

Nami yanked the note off the refrigerator and carefully read the instructions again. The name of the neighbor drew a blank stare from her. Who was she suppose to drop the soup off to? She had no idea who the person was or even where he lived. Nami heaved a sigh of annoyance at her roommate and how he did things. His stupid Post-It notes. Sanji could have at least given her the number of the apartment if he wanted her to deliver something.

Scratching her head and wondering what to do next, Nami pulled on her shoes and marched outside with the pot in her hands.

The first door she tried was right across from hers. Nami rang the doorbell and waited. If it was the wrong person, she could still ask where the right person lived.

To her disappointment, a young thin woman, wearing a pink dress answered the door. Her hair was blonde and tied in pig-tails. She was carrying her pet Chihuahua, which looked more like a little fox than a dog. Somehow, the woman got around the building's no pet policy.

"Hello, Nami. How are you doing? How can I help you?" the woman asked politely, petting her dog.

Crap. The woman knew her name and Nami didn't have the foggiest clue what hers could be. "I just wanted to say hi before I go drop this soup off." Nami held up the pot for her to see.

"Oh. That's nice."

They stood there for a few moments, staring at each other.

"By the way, do you know where he lives?" Nami showed her Sanji's Post-It note.

"Him?" The woman gave Nami a puzzled look. "He lives next door to you," she replied slowly.

"Uh, that's right. Silly me," Nami said, laughing weakly. "Thanks. Bye!" She walked off quickly.

When Nami heard the door closed, she slowed her pace and stopped. She wanted to palm-slap her forehead. Next door, she said. At least she got the right apartment now. She walked up to the door, pressed the buzzer and waited. No one answered. She pressed the buzzer again. She frowned and tried knocking on the door.

Her stupid luck. The man wasn't in. Where could he be?

"Nami, Nami, Nami, Nami, Nami!" a little girl's voice chirped.

Nami turned and saw a little girl bounding down the hallway, running straight at her. Her yellow hair was braided in two long strands that seemed to magically stick straight up in the air. She had with her a giant stuffed rabbit. Following after the girl was an elderly woman, probably her grandmother. She was heavyset and almost wobbled as she walked.

"Watcha doing, Nami? What you got in the pot? Is that for me? Where's Sanji?" The girl ran in circles around Nami, holding her toy rabbit up for her to see.

Sadly for Nami, she couldn't remember the kid's name either.

"Slow down. Are you looking for-" The elderly woman's voice asked before she was cut off. The girl was yanking on her arm.

"It's bunny power!" the girl screamed, grinning. "Yeah! Yeah!"

"Yes!" Nami shouted over the noise. "I got this soup to give to him. Where is he?"

"He's probably down the hall with-" again her voice was drowned out by the kid's shouting. "You know how entertainers like to hang out with each other."

"Thanks!" Nami waved them good-bye. The grandmother took the girl's hand and led her inside the apartment.

"Bye Nami! Tell Sanji to visit me please!" the girl shouted before the door shut close.

The last two apartments left on her floor. Nami looked warily at both of them. There was a distinct, strong smell of burnt incense and music playing in the background. She had nagging feeling like she should remember something. Something Sanji told her a long time ago when she first moved in. But the memory wouldn't surface. It probably wasn't that important if she couldn't remember. So which door should she try first?

Nami didn't have to decide.

The door creaked open like something out of bad horror film. As plain as day, there was a tall fellow, leering at her. He had a dopey look in his eyes like he was on drugs. His hair was hidden underneath a white cap and he wore pair of puffy pants with no shirt or shoes. He had on too much jewelry, more than a man should wear. Bracelets, anklets, and earrings. And the way he was looking at Nami, made her feel sick to her stomach.

The guy placed both hands on his waist and ceremoniously proclaimed to Nami, "I'm God."

That was all Nami needed to hear. She took off as fast as she could, the pot still in her hands. She hurried down the hallway, not daring to look back and ran inside the safety of her apartment. She kicked the door shut and quickly bolted the locks. After that, she leaned against the door and sank down to the floor. Scared, shocked and dumbfounded.

Oh yeah. Now Nami remembered. Sanji told her never to wander down the hallway to the other end. A weirdo lived down there. And even though the guy was beefy and shirtless, even on the coldest of days, Sanji disliked him immensely. Sanji told her he belonged to a religious cult and called him a lazyass bum, who never worked a day in his life.

After grabbing a bit of chowder for herself- hey, she was entitled to some after all trouble she was going through, Nami stepped out into the hallway again. She checked to see if God was around and saw no sign of him. She thought it was safe enough so she tiptoed her way to the other end and rang the doorbell. It wasn't long before someone answered the door.

He was a tall lanky man wearing heart-shaped sunglasses. He didn't really say anything to Nami but just danced in front of her. When she got the chance to explain her task and to ask if her next door neighbor was around, he only danced some more. Finally he stopped dancing long enough to shake his head and say no.

Grumpy, Nami headed back. All that work. She visited almost every apartment on her floor and she still hadn't found him. She supposed she could try his door again in an hour, but she was frustrated and tired. She only wanted to crawl back to her room and eat the chowder that Sanji made before anyone caught her.

"Good evening, Miss Nami."

Nami jumped at the sound of his voice and then slowly peered over her shoulder. It was same gentleman from before. He was carrying a walking cane and a bag of grocery. He stepped off the elevator and bowed to her. Nami watched him open the door. The door next to her apartment.

"You're Brook?" Nami exclaimed.

"Yoohoohoo. Have you been looking for me?" he stopped and asked her.

Feeling stupid and relieved, Nami presented Sanji's pot to him. He laughed heartily before he thanked her and accepted it. He explained he had been ill recently and had lost a considerable amount of weight. Sanji had been so kind and cooked various healthy meals for him.

Brook invited her in for some tea and cookies, which Nami declined, but did allow him to give her a quick tour of his home. It was like a small museum. He had all sorts of musical instruments: violin, guitar, piano, flute, trombone, to name a few. Nami was surprised to discover he knew how to play them all. He demonstrated with his violin, playing a lovely classical piece called, Carmen Fantasy.

Brook did have one quirk. He loved talking to Laboon. Laboon was his pet goldfish. Albeit, a very enormous comet goldfish, but still a goldfish. It swam in a rectangular, glass aquarium with a sunken ship seated neatly in a pile of bright blue pebbles. Several times Nami had mistakenly answered Brook, only to find out he was really conversing with his goldfish.

Nami smiled and listened the best she could. Silently she counted the minutes until she could properly excuse herself without looking hasty or rude.

Neighbors, she sighed.


	9. Blast From The Past

Roommates

It was way past lunch, but Nami wasn't hungry. She was angry, impatient, and stressed. There was a big deadline to meet this coming Friday. As much as she hated to admit it, she would have to stay late all this week in order to finish her project. It didn't alleviate her mood any that certain a co-worker didn't seem to do anything. She swore the next time she saw Nezumi walked by her desk, texting on his iPhone, she was going to chuck that obnoxious device out the window.

Speak of the devil. From the corner of her eyes, Nami spotted Nezumi waltzing his way towards her. His head bowed down and his eyes glued on his iPhone. Count to ten slowly, Nami told herself.

"Nami, what's up?" he said without taking his eyes off his cell phone. "We're out coffee and the copy machine is jammed."

"That must be devastating," Nami said absentmindedly. She was too busy looking through the city's building codes to really care. There were forms to fill out for the necessary building permits and she was still trying to figure out which ones she needed.

Hearing her disinterest, Nezumi's eyes flickered up and his mouth turned into a snarl. "I'm meeting with Arlong later for golf. Want me to pass any message? How your project doing? Isn't it due this week?"

Nami's eyes narrowed darkly at the short man. His iPhone had only a slim chance of surviving today if Nezumi kept it up.

Nezumi laughed. "Lighten up. I'm was just kidding." He casually pocketed his cell phone as if sensing her intention. "Hey, Kuroobi. Did you catch the game last night?" He chased after Kuroobi, who only rolled his eyes when he saw Nezumi.

Left alone, Nami grumbled deep in her throat as she saw all her work. Piles of folders, binders, documents, and booklets littered her desk and the floor. It was a real mess. Nami had been working on her project for almost two weeks without anything substantial to show for it. It might come down to her asking for an extension, which she wanted to avoid. Even with her near stellar work history, she was still intimidated with Arlong. He rarely came to the office, but his presence seemed to be everywhere.

Nami could hear Nezumi joking with Hatchan now. Honestly, all he ever did was come to work only to socialize. Life was so unfair. She rubbed her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts, but Nezumi's irritating voice was impossible to ignore.

Forget it, Nami thought grimly. She tossed her pen aside. She needed a break. She needed to clear her head. She needed to go shopping.

With her mind made up, Nami grabbed her shoulder bag and headed for the elevator. They could fix the damn copier on their own.

Outside her building, Nami stood staring at the wide open space of the streets and sidewalks. Almost like freedom. Clothes, shoes or books? She couldn't decide between the three. She doubted that any of them could cheer her up. Her mind was too distracted for anything fun or relaxing. Maybe she should shop for something she needed instead something she wanted.

Furniture.

Since Nami moved in, she had been meaning to buy a second bookcase. The one she had now wasn't enough to accommodate all the things she had managed to collect. She was out of space and was cramming things in wherever she could, which made her current bookcase look cluttered and unorganized.

The store Nami went to was a popular furniture retailer that sold ready-to-assemble furniture and home knickknacks. She never bought anything there before, but decided the prices were cheap and the quality was decent enough to give the store a try.

Nami rode the escalator up and marveled at the many of showrooms of living room, kitchen, and bedroom. If she ever found the time, she wouldn't have minded the idea remodeling her bathroom to something stylish and modern. It was small and cramp, but with right shelves, she could add a lot of space.

Nami wandered the showrooms until she found the bookcase she liked and then picked up the ticket for it. She headed to the warehouse area to pick up her assembly when she felt her stomach grumbled. That's right. She had no lunch today.

Fortunately for her, the store came with a cafeteria. How convenient. Selecting a dish of meatballs with gravy and a bowl of macaroni and cheese, Nami was carrying her tray to an empty table when a woman shrieked. Her voice was so high and loud it caught more than just Nami's attention. Nearly all the shoppers eating in the cafeteria stopped what they were doing and stared.

"Oh my god! It's you!"

Nami froze still and carefully turned her head to the source of the outburst.

"I can't believe it's you!"

Neither could Nami. It took only a fraction of a second for Nami to recognize who the young woman was. She was dressed smartly in an expensive dress suit and her hair was grown out longer, but she looked almost exactly the same when Nami last saw her years ago. Who could really forget Vivi Nefertari, her best high school friend?

After high school, they parted and went their separate ways, each promising to keep in contact. Letters and birthday cards, they written to each with their daily life, woes and adventures. But gradually the letters became fewer and longer in between until it stopped suddenly all together without either one noticing that it happened. Distance and time eroded away the strongest of bond.

Laughing so hard, Vivi ran up and hugged Nami, almost hanging from her neck and knocking her tray out of her hands. Nami could only just watch, spellbound and astonished. What were the odds? Had she gone to lunch on time or had decided to go shoe shopping, she would have never known who she had missed.

After things settled down, they quickly grabbed an empty table. Vivi introduced Nami to her friend that was accompanying her, a coworker named, Mande. She was a tall, dark-skinned woman, very muscular, but she had the sweetest voice Nami had ever heard. She left them alone to grab something to eat and drink for the both of them.

"What have you been up to? Where are you working? We need to exchange numbers," Vivi said excitedly. They exchanged the usual info: business cards, cell phone numbers and email addresses.

"There's so much to catch up on."

"What are you doing here?" Nami asked. She managed to dig into her meatballs. It was easy with Vivi maintaining most of the conversation.

"We are in town for some business and we had to some free time and decided to shop for a desk for Mande. She was recently promoted," Vivi said proudly.

"It's nothing special," Mande said embarrassed, shaking her head. She had returned with coffee and corn bread for herself and Vivi.

"Oh my god!" Vivi gasped. "Mande, what do you think? Would you mind? You know what I'm thinking, right?"

Mande gave her a knowing smile. "It's a wonderful idea. She should be there."

"What? What's going on?" Nami stopped chewing to stare at them.

"Let me tell you my big news." Vivi held her breath a moment and then bounced in her chair, clapping her hands together. "I'm getting married. Can you believe it? I'm getting married."

"Married?" Nami repeated weakly. She quietly set down her fork. How much did she miss? She always watched out for Vivi throughout high school, helped her through the roughest exams, fended off the nasty bullies. Now Vivi was getting married? Married? The word sounded so alien to Nami. Was this the same Vivi, who once got smacked in the face by a softball, but held a strong smile until she got the girl's locker room, where she wailed like a little girl? The same Vivi, who tirelessly rallied an apathetic school together and got them to hold a fundraiser for the school's dying chess club? She was getting married?

"I want you come to my wedding and..." Vivi trailed off, waiting anxiously. "And I want you to be my bridesmaid."

"Bridesmaid? You want me to be your bridesmaid?" That snapped Nami out of her stupor. She sat up straight in her chair and her eyes wide open. She hadn't recovered from the initial shock.

"It will be a beautiful wedding and you'll make a beautiful bridesmaid," Mande added.

"Please come, Nami. It would mean so much to me if you did. I know we haven't spoken in a very long time, but I always remembered the times we had in school. You were always so kind and supportive."

"Of course I'll be there. How can I not be there? It's the biggest day of your life. How can I miss it?"

Her smile was contagious, and they were grinning and giggling like little high school girls.

"Wait. I think I have an extra invitation card." Vivi searched her purse and seconds later pulled out an ivory-colored envelope and handed it to Nami.

Nami carefully opened the pretty envelope and silently read the inscription on card. Vivi was marrying someone Kohza, a name she thought she recognized from her earlier days. An image of a thin awkward boy came to mind. When she got to the date of the wedding ceremony, she panicked.

"Vivi? Your wedding is this Sunday?" Nami said hesitantly.

"It's not too much trouble for you, is it?" Vivi asked concerned. "You need to come a couple days early. We have to get a dress fitted for you. And there is the rehearsal. You can still make it, right?"

Catching her worried expression, Nami put on a confident smile and laughed. "It's no problem," she lied.

After a long conversation, filled with old stories of the high school days, they hugged and waved good-bye. Nami got back to the office with a lot of things on her mind. Like how in the world she was going to finish her project ahead of schedule, how was she going to get to Alabasta, and what was she going to wear. It was like some twisted version of Cinderella, except there were no ingenious mice, an overgrown squash or a benevolent fairy godmother to come to her aid. And there was that other tiny matter to add to her growing list of aggravation: who was she suppose to take to the wedding.

Nami was welcomed to bring a guest with her to the ceremony. Vivi's parting words to her was to bring anybody. A special friend, she added not so innocently with a smile.

A special friend. Nami blew a raspberry at the idea. She knew exactly who to call. Whipping out her cell phone, she keyed in the number and waited.

"Hello?"

"Nojiko. How are you? What are you doing this weekend?" Nami asked sweetly. Nojiko, her older sister, was her confidant and partner in crime. They grew up together, played together, and got in trouble together. Nami could always count on her for almost anything.

"Huh, Nami? What do you want? I'm a little busy right now."

"What do you mean?" Nami said, sounding slightly offended.

"You only call me when you need something from me."

Nami sighed heavily. Cutting to the chase, she quickly explained her situation. "Remember Vivi from high school? Guess what. She getting married this Sunday and she made me her bridesmaid."

"That's nice," Nojiko said distracted. Nami could hear her talking to someone in the background.

"Could you come with me? I don't want to go by myself. You know how important her family is. There's going to be hundreds of people there."

"Fine. I'll go with you. You're such a baby sometimes."

"Great! Come over to my place Friday morning. We can drive out there together. Take my car." Nami hadn't seen her sister or her car for a while. It could be a lot of fun. Suddenly the trip didn't seem so impossible and she was beginning to look forward to the wedding. She only needed to finish her work and it would be clear sailing.

"Friday? I can't leave on Friday. There's a FDA inspection on Friday."

Nami became deflated. "What do you mean? You said you could go."

"I thought you said the wedding was on Sunday," Nojiko countered.

"It is, but I need to leave on Friday," Nami said, biting her lower lip. "Can't you just call-in sick or something?"

There was a long pause as Nojiko stopped to give instructions to someone again. "Did I mention the FDA is coming to visit?" she continued exasperated. "I can't call-in sick. There's no way I can find anyone to replace me."

"I can't bribe you to come?" Nami asked hopelessly. She saw her plans unraveling as quickly as they were made.

"Sorry. Can't help you, kiddo. You're on your own."

It was nearly midnight when Nami got home. She moved listlessly through the doorway, dropping her shoulder bag, and then her coat on the floor. Her feet hurt and she was hungry and tired. She found the kitchen light on and Sanji busy working his giant stove. It was his weekly cooking that he did for her.

"Yo," Sanji said. He lifted his head from the oven. "You're back late. It's a first time I'm home before you."

"Work," Nami mumbled. She slumped down in chair and then propped her feet up on a second chair. Her sandals slipped off and they fell under the table. "What are you making? It smells good." She casually craned her neck to the side to see what Sanji was brewing.

Sanji smirked, folding his arms. "You want some now?"

"Thank you!" Nami grinned happily. She could always bum a free meal off him. Sanji handed her a plate and she ate it, cleaning the it in minutes. He then bought her some tea, something she never drank before until she started living with him. The man loved his tea and was quite insistent about their beneficial values. But he still knew how to make a good coffee for whenever Nami craved it.

"What?" Sanji caught her looking. "You want seconds?"

"No. I'm all right. The food was good," Nami said, not realizing she was staring at him so intensely. She wondered, taking a small sip from her cup.

"You keep looking at me like you want to ask me something."

Nami blinked at him. Was she desperate? Nami considered Sanji for a moment, weighing out her options. She could go solo and deal with hundreds of people she didn't know. She only needed to last three days by herself.

Anyways, the odds of finding anyone to go with her on such a short notice was probably next to impossible. But still, it would be nice to have a friendly face she knew to be there. Never mind how nerve-racking it would be with her put on display as a bridesmaid.

Sanji was still waiting with a suspicious look in his eyes. He had packed up the rest of the food in one of her Tupperware and set it on the counter to cool.

What the heck, Nami decided. It couldn't hurt to ask him. "Want go to a wedding with me?" she uttered.

Sanji tilted his head at her and a silly lopsided grin appeared on his face. "I love weddings."

"You do?"

"Absolutely. When is it?"

"This weekend. Can you leave on Friday?" Nami asked cautiously.

"Sure."

"You can?"

"Yes!" Sanji said with emphasis.

"Uh, okay. I'll let my friend know we are coming."

"Great. I'm looking forward to it. What am I going to wear?" Sanji murmured the last part to himself as he wandered to his room. He left a surprised Nami sitting alone in the kitchen.

Did she just invite her gay roommate to her best friend's wedding?


	10. The Incredible Journey

Roommates

The office was deserted by the time she finished her project. In a way it was finished. She typed out the last portion of the proposal and ran it through spellchecker and then emailed the whole thing to Hatchi. Not her best work, but she was past the point of caring anymore. Hopefully, Hatchi could look it over and fix any glaring mistakes for her.

Nami got home very late, close to midnight, with things still left to do. She dug out her old duffel bag and packed her toiletry, extra underwear and whatever clothing she thought she could wear at a wedding. Frankly, she didn't know the rules or etiquette of weddings and hoped for the best. She then called the car rental agency and confirmed her reservation for the morning and re-checked her maps. The stupid internet couldn't locate Alabasta. It simply didn't exist on any of the map search engines.

After it was all done, Nami crawled into bed, not bothering to change out of her clothes. She couldn't sleep and ended up tossing and turning. She was anxious. She didn't know what to expect and she prayed she didn't make a fool out of herself. When the alarm sounded, she moaned after she stared at the clock. Only four hours of sleep. Nami managed to drag herself out of bed and headed to bathroom to take a quick shower.

Nami found Sanji cooking in the kitchen. Where did he always find the time and energy to cook all the time?

"Good morning," Sanji greeted her with a dazzling smile.

"Coffee!" Nami demanded as she took a seat at the table. She was busy drying her hair with a towel.

Sanji complied immediately and set a small cup down in front of her in seconds. It was his usual expert creation: cappuccino topped with steamed-milk froth and dusted with cocoa powder. How he made it without the use of an espresso machine was a mystery to Nami.

"Excited?" he asked.

"Not particularly," Nami said simply. She took a carefully sip and shut her eyes. The coffee was so soothing.

"No?"

"It's just a wedding." She shrugged her shoulders. "People get married all the time."

After finishing her coffee, Nami got dressed and left the apartment to pick up the car rental. It was a lime-green, compact, two-door sedan that she hoped was good enough to get them to where they needed to go. Nami hopped in and adjusted the seat and rear-view mirror. She turned the ignition on. The gas tank was full and the engine sounded good to go.

Nami must have circled the block three times before she finally found a parking spot. Jumping out of the car, she ran in the apartment to grab her things and Sanji. He was ready with all his things: a long garment bag, an expandable carry-on and an upright luggage. All matching of course.

She stopped to stare at the things he was bringing. "This is only for one weekend. What do you have in there? A kitchenette?"

Sanji flashed her an annoyed expression.

It took two trips for Sanji, but they managed to get everything down to the rental and crammed all of it in the trunk. Nami settled in the driver seat and pulled out the maps. Sanji brought along a lunchbox and set it on the back seat.

"Okay, here's the plan. I'll drive for the first half and you can take over the last half. I calculate it'll take us six hours to get to Alabasta. If we push it, we could be there in five. Just follow the route I marked on the map and we should be okay." She handed him the map and he examined it carefully.

"One small problem," Sanji said, returning her map back to her.

"What is it?"

"I don't know how to drive," he stated.

Nami paused, not sure if she heard him correctly. "How is that possible?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged. "Never needed to learn."

Nami's head hit the steering wheel. She would have to drive the entire way. Not that it was an extremely long drive, but she knew once the effects of the caffeine wore off, she was going to be tired. She wanted a little nap before arriving at Vivi's home. It looked like that wasn't going to happen.

The car got them out of the city in poor time. The traffic was at its heaviest and they were crawling. A turtle moved faster than them. Nami was already dozing off, watching the vehicle in front of them lurch every few feet. All Sanji could do was handle the radio, changing stations every time there was a commercial break. Nami breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached the interstate and they picked up speed.

"You don't like weddings?" Sanji asked suddenly. It was two hours into the drive.

Nami swallowed first before replying. Her mouth was full of quiche. Thank goodness for the lunchbox that Sanji packed. Eating kept her awake and alert. "I never said that. I've never been to one so I can't say I have much of an opinion of them."

"Ah, I see. I can tell you, they are a lot of fun."

"Fun? I suppose to those who are invited to attend." Nami turned on the right turn light and eased the car into the next lane. The driver behind them honked loudly at her. She ignored him.

"For everyone." Sanji suddenly gripped the dashboard. "What's not to love about weddings? Wonderful food, drinks, music, flowers, and decoration. All your family and friends dressed in their best. It's the most romantic day of a girl's life. One of the most important."

Nami snorted. "It's expensive. People pay too much money. More than they can afford. I've seen those reality shows. Those girls waste thousands of dollars on their dream dress, wear it once, and then it's gone into some attic or closet, where it never sees the light of day. If they're lucky, their marriage won't end in divorce. You know half of them do."

"Such a pessimist," Sanji chuckled.

"Better to be practical," Nami retorted as she chewed off another bite from the quiche.

The terrain had taken on an arid and flat appearance. The sun turned glaringly bright and hot. Gone were the lush vegetation and rolling green hills. It was well past noon when they took their first pit stop at a small gas station. A bathroom break and a short smoke break for Sanji. With the gas tank filled, they climbed back in the car for another fun-filled drive under the merciless sun.

Somewhere between Willie Nelson and Carrie Underwood, Sanji became quiet and dozed off, his head leaning against the side door window. Nami eyed him angrily. How was it possible not to know how to drive?

Nami heard all kinds of stories of Alabasta, but none of them did any justice and nothing prepared her for what she saw. Vivi lived in a goddamn palace with giant stone statues dotting the landscape and a spectacular water fountain at the entrance. The place was busy and alive with people unloading vans and carrying in flowers, furniture and boxes.

After passing through security gate, Nami carefully followed stone-paved road to the front and stepped out of the car. The heat smothered her like a blanket. She wanted to scrambled back in and soak in the car's fantastic air conditioner, but it was too late. Vivi appeared and squealed at the sight of her.

"You came! You came! I'm so happy you're here!" Vivi pounced Nami and gave her a huge hug. Mande followed right behind her along with a tall man with curly blond hair. Igaram, if Nami remembered his name correctly.

"Wow!" Nami shook her head and stared at Vivi's home. "You have an amazing...palace."

"Silly, it's just a mansion," Vivi said, laughing.

And Buckingham was just a cottage.

"Who is this person?" Vivi directed Nami's attention to the car.

Sanji climbed out of the car and smiled at them.

"Ah," Nami said. It was time for the unavoidable introductions. "Vivi, this is my roommate, Sanji Kun. Sanji, this is Vivi Nefertari."

"Roommate... Really?" Vivi quickly forgot about Nami and hurried over to meet Sanji.

Sanji gave Vivi an extravagant bow and took her fingers to kiss the back of her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, mademoiselle."

"Why thank you." Vivi blushed and giggled excessively at Sanji. "You two must be tired. Come inside and settle in."

Nami threw Sanji a funny look like he was an alien from another planet.

"What?" he said innocently.

After a quick exchange with the rest of the group, Sanji unloaded the car. Mande had no problem carrying all their luggage and a man named Pell took the rental to be parked elsewhere. Vivi dragged Nami away to somewhere inside the mansion. Nami lost sight of Sanji as they climbed the grand staircase.

"We have to hurry and get you fitted, Nami. We don't have much time," Vivi said in a solemn voice. She rushed Nami into a room where six people waited with measuring tapes, needles, thread, scissors and fabric. When they saw her, they attacked and swiftly stripped her down to her underwear.

What seemed like forever, Nami stood as they measured, poked, trimmed and draped fabric all over her. Nami couldn't tell if they were sewing a dress or creating the world's first human pin cushion. Vivi watched the entire process, biting her bottom lip.

"Can you get it done in time?" Vivi asked nervously.

The eldest woman only nodded and issued orders in a foreign language that Nami couldn't identify. They swarmed all around her, moving this way and that way. Nami had to hold her arms out sideways and slowly her arms would sink back down only to have them lifted up again. To her annoyance, the tattoo on her shoulder raised a few eyebrows from the seamstresses. They spoke briefly among themselves and agreed on something by nodding their heads.

Nami was exhausted. The long car drive and little sleep the night before were taking their toll on her. She looked over to Vivi for any signs of mercy and pity, but she was too busy speaking to the head seamstress to take any notice of her.

"Almost there, Nami," Vivi said encouragingly. Her head was buried in paperwork, signing receipts and documents left and right.

Nami forced a weak smile and held on. Sure, why not stand for another hour or two or three. It was not like her knees were ready to give out at any second or she lost all feeling in her arms.

It took years before head seamstress was satisfied with the work, but they were done. The torture was finally over. Nami was proud to admit that she didn't give in and blab away any state secret. As fast as they undressed her, they dressed her back in her clothes and vanished, leaving no trace of their activity. Like ninjas.

Vivi shooed away the rest of her staff, leaving the two of them alone. There was still a lot commotion outside her room, but it was quiet and peaceful.

Nami took the opportunity to collapse into a sofa chair, kicking her feet up on an ottoman. "My feet hurt and I'm beat. You know, it was a lot work getting here."

"I'm sure you'll charge me for it." Vivi handed her a nice glass of ice tea, which Nami gladly accepted.

"Consider it your wedding gift," Nami said. She leaned back and rested the glass on her forehead. It felt nice and cool.

"You're lucky you only have to deal with the last few days of it. Imagine how much I had to go through. Months and months of planning." Vivi landed on her bed and hugged a pillow.

"Please spare me anymore torture. I'm too delicate to survive."

"I'm sorry there still one more day left of it before the big day. Blame it on Igaram, if you must."

"You're so mean!" Nami pouted.

"I tell you what. I'll let you skip the dinner party tonight. Just a bunch of boring people. Mostly associates of my father."

"Really? That would be great. I hate dressing up. I didn't bring that many formal clothes with me."

"Tomorrow will be much better," Vivi promised. She got off her bed and strolled over to her desk, looking for something.

Saying Vivi's bedroom was spacious would be an understatement. It was the size of Sanji's entire apartment. The ceiling had to be at least twelve feet high. It was filled with carved furniture, crystal lamps and polished antiques.

"So...tell me about your roommate," Vivi asked, interrupting Nami's quiet observation. "How did you meet him?"

"Don't get any wild ideas. Sanji is gay," Nami stated as she sat up. She finished her drink and place the glass on the side table.

"Oh, that's too bad. He seemed so charming." Vivi seemed disappointed. Too disappointed in Nami's eyes.

"Right, he's so charming," Nami muttered.

Their rooms, Nami discovered, were connected by the bathroom. Vivi left her after she making sure Nami was comfortable.

"I have to hurry and get ready for dinner. Kohza is useless at these dinners without me. You'll be okay? Are you sure you don't want something brought up to you? It would be no trouble."

"It's fine. I'm full. Sanji made too much food for the car ride. I just want to sleep."

"All right. I'll see you tomorrow." Vivi waved good-bye and shut the door.

Nami looked over her temporary room. It wasn't as big as Vivi's but it was still bigger than her own room. Her duffel bag was left sitting on the bed. She headed to the bathroom and knocked on the opposite door. There was no response.

Carefully Nami opened it and peeked in. "Hello, Sanji?"

His luggage were propped open and his clothes were neatly put away. Other than that, there was no other sign of him.

Where did he go?


	11. Blast From The Past part 2

Roommates

Nami slept like a baby. Probably the best sleep she ever had. She never realized how crappy her old bed was until she slept in a high quality bed. The elegant blanket was quilted with down and was soft and puffy like a marshmallow. Expensive things were expensive for a reason. Nami would have laid in bed all morning if she didn't have things to do.

Nami checked her watch and saw how late it was. Wasn't there suppose to be a rehearsal? Vivi mentioned something about it yesterday. She hurried out of bed and ran into the bathroom. There were signs of recent activity.

A toothbrush and a razor were tossed together in a mug by the sink along with a bottle of after-shave. Nami took a chance and peeked into Sanji's room. The room was still empty and the bed was made. Did he even sleep in there?

Nami didn't have time to wonder any further when a knock came from her door. It was Mande.

"Nami? Are you wake yet? Mr. Igaram wants to see us."

"Hold on a second. I'm getting dressed," Nami called out. She quickly grabbed a change of clothes from her duffel bag and got ready.

Mande led Nami down the hallway, passed several rooms. The servants were busy, dusting the furniture, sweeping the floor, polishing the brass, and wiping the windows. Nami dodged around several people as they carried in vases and garlands.

"Mande, did you see Sanji today?"

"Sanji? No. You haven't seen him?" Mande inquired.

"Not since we got here," Nami replied.

"He was at the dinner party last night. That was the last time I saw him."

"Oh?" So he did go, Nami thought. That shouldn't have surprised her. It seemed like the thing Sanji would want to do. Dressing up and attending a posh dinner. After all, he expressed more enthusiasm about weddings than she did.

"He might be with one of Mr. Nefertari's guest," Mande continued. They reached their destination. The room had double doors for its entrance. "I saw him talking with one of them most of the night."

"Really?" Then as casually as possible, Nami asked, "Was the guest male?"

"Why yes."

A feeling of irritation rose from her being. Sanji was suppose to keep her company, not gallivanting around with another man. If Nami knew he was just going to run off to hang out with someone else, she wouldn't have bothered to invite him.

The rehearsal was held in an ordinary sitting room. The furniture were rearranged to create a long path from the doorway to the fireplace. When Igaram saw Nami and Mande, he quickly crossed the room and greeted them. Igaram was wearing a white dress. Pell and Chaka were there as well, but they were dressed in regular servant uniforms.

"I hope Miss Nami had a pleasant rest. I am sorry to inform you that Miss Vivi is detained. She will not be able to attend the rehearsal so I will be standing in her place," Igaram said, curtsying.

Nami stifled a laugh, wondering where Igaram could have found the oversized dress. He was a very bulky and tall man to begin with.

Despite what Igaram was wearing, he was dead-serious about the rehearsal. He quickly explained ceremony and how everyone will proceed down the aisle. First the groom, Kohza, paired with his father. Igaram demonstrated by pretending to be Kohza and he instructed Pell to play Kohza's father. When they reached the end of the aisle, they walked to the left side of the podium.

Next to follow were the groomsmen and the bridesmaids. Pell and Chaka stepped in to play the part of the groomsmen. Mande walked with Chaka and Nami walked with Pell. Nami took Pell's arm and they followed after Mande and Chaka. The bridesmaids were instructed to step to the right of the podium.

Igaram had them repeat their walk several times until he thought it was perfect. Then they went through the whole march one more time with wedding music playing. This last practice run, Igaram ended the march with him playing the bride and Chaka giving him away to Pell. He seemed have enjoyed that part very much.

When it was finally over, Igaram released them for brunch. Chaka and Pell took off down the hallway. Mande guided Nami through another hallway and then they headed downstairs.

"I don't think he needed to wear that dress," Nami muttered.

Mande giggled.

The dining room was busy and the tables were seated with foreigners. Mande motioned Nami to follow. Instead of watching where she was going, Nami looked around the room, searching for a particular shade of blond. It was hard with so many people moving about. She got tired and gave up. It was then she accidentally bumped into Mande.

"I'm sorry," Nami said meekly when she realized who she had ran into. Being such a tall woman, Nami thought she was Mande, but she was wrong.

The older woman scowled at her and didn't say anything. She had long dark flowing hair with gold dangle earrings adorning her face. She wore a rich and vibrant dress. A dress that was too revealing for this time of day. She slowly looked over Nami and gave her a rather condescending stare before strolling off. A entourage of half a dozen lovely women chased after her, grumbling about the rudeness of commoners.

At least it didn't escalate into anything more than an awkward incident, Nami thought.

Nami caught sight of Mande and hurried over to her. They eventually found Vivi sitting next to a young man. She was clinging to him and was trying unsuccessfully to feed him a piece of croissant. When Vivi saw Nami and Mande, she grinned and waved at them to come over.

"Hi," Vivi said cheerfully. "Remember Kohza? The light of my life."

It looked like the years did wondrous things to Kohza. He was tall and good-looking with dark blond hair and blue eyes. No more of the lanky short boy was left.

Kohza stood up and shook Nami's hand. "I'm glad you could make it. I hope the trip wasn't too hard."

"Piece of cake."

"I have to go. My father needs me. I'll see you at dinner." Kohza gave Vivi quick kiss on the cheek. He then turned to Nami and said, "I'll leave Vivi in your care. It was good seeing you again."

Nami nodded.

"So how was rehearsal? How was my double?" Vivi asked.

"Marvelous. Igaram was perfect. Couldn't tell the difference. What's to eat here? I'm famished." Nami took a seat across from Vivi and looked around. Was there suppose to be a menu to order from or was she suppose to eat whatever they brought her?

On cue, a waiter carried a tray of coffee, cream, and sugar and set them carefully on the table. A different waiter brought a tray of breakfast dishes. A Spanish omelette for Nami and banana pancakes for Mande.

"Ready for my little surprise?"

Nami swallowed her eggs and wiped her mouth clean with a napkin. Why did people always ask her questions when she had food in her mouth? "What is it?"

"You'll see. You're going to love it."

"You're not going to tell us?" Nami looked over to Mande and saw she was just as puzzled as she was.

"And ruin the surprise? Not a chance."

After brunch, the three of them made their way upstairs and back to Vivi's room. There was man waiting inside. He had an odd cowlick that defied gravity and wore a vertical striped shirt and glasses.

Nami was still unsure what was going on.

Vivi introduced the strange man. "This is Mr. Galdino. He is a cosmetologist and he is going to give all of us a makeover!" she squealed. "It'll be so much fun. It'll be just like our old school days."

"A makeover?" Nami sounded uncertain. She didn't recall any fun days with those. In fact, if she remembered correctly, they were all miserable failed attempts at following the instructions from fashion magazines.

"I'll make all of you a living work of art!" Galdino declared, his hands held straight up in the air.

That didn't inspire any confidence with Nami.

Galdino studied them but was most disappointed with Nami. He circled her twice and kept tsking at her like she committed a fashion blooper. He left Vivi and Mande alone and a blonde woman took them away to shampoo their hair, but with Nami he wanted her waxed first. Her upper lip, legs, and underarms, to be exact.

Nami was mortified and outraged. What the hell was the man talking about? She wasn't hairy and she took good care of her appearance. But Nami sucked it in and forced her mouth into a bright smile. Vivi was so excited and happy. Nami couldn't object and make a scene.

What Nami soon learned was, the man was obsessed with wax. Galdino poured a thick layer of hot wax over her legs and underarms and then dabbed a gob on her upper lip. She thought the application step was over and all she had to do was wait for it to cool, but he continued to apply more and more wax on her. Galdino went crazy with the wax, quietly sniggering to himself. Was he planning on covering her body with wax? Thank goodness he finally stopped when he ran out of wax.

Nami gritted her teeth and shut her eyes when the wax was stripped. She swore her skin came off with it. Then her eyebrows were continuously plucked until Nami almost broke down in tears. The shampoo lady, who was equally as insane as Galdino, grabbed her hair and scrubbed her scalp like she held a secret grudge against Nami. Even worst, she insisted on washing her hair three times. Didn't Vivi promise today would be better day? Well she lied! It was nothing but pain, pain and more pain.

The thing about the shampoo lady that mystified Nami the most was, the whole time she was drying out her hair, she called it sexual harassment. It didn't make any sense since Nami never uttered a single word to her.

During the majority of the so called beauty session, there was a girl who went unnoticed. She was quiet and spent most of the time in the back, eating a cracker and staring into space. She was apparently the nail technician. Nami thought she looked too young to be working. Her red-brown hair was braided in two strands. When it was time for the manicure, the girl took over. She soaked all their fingers in some goo, polished and shaped the nails and added in extensions. Then she painted all kinds of pretty designs on theirs nails.

Nami had to admit, she liked her nail painting. Her nails sparkled and shined like pretty jewels.

Both of Vivi and Mande were done with their treatment long before her. Nami could feel them hovering over her like some expecting mothers. Galdino was putting on the finishing touches with her hair using a curling iron. Then he stepped back and said, "Viola!"

"You look so pretty, Nami," Mande said, beaming.

"I don't feel so good." It was all Nami had to say. Her skin felt so raw and sensitive. She only wanted to crawl into a corner and forget everything that happened in Vivi's room. It was official. Vivi's room was a torture chamber.

"Look at yourself, silly," Vivi said. She directed Nami to the dresser mirror.

The person Nami saw in the reflection was no one she recognized. Her face had a head-on collision course with the foundation, blush, eyeshadow and mascara truck. Her hair was hit by a hurricane of chemical and dye. Golden highlights and brown lowlights were now mixed in her carrot red hair. And her poor eyebrows would never be the same again. They became nothing more than two thin lines.

Nami sighed and shook her head. She looked so stupid.

After much fussing from Vivi, Nami managed to get away for some alone time and she went for a walk. She was told of a planetarium and an aquarium if she wanted something to look at. Either one sounded interesting and safe from any crazed beauticians.

One of the servants gave her directions to both places, but Nami headed to the aquarium since it was the closer of the two. The aquarium was something like one of the science exhibits she saw on a school field trip. The room was low-lit with several displays of marine life hanging from the ceiling. There was even an enormous taxidermied crocodile. Nami quickly moved away from the fearsome creature and went towards the giant aquarium. She never liked crocodiles.

The swaying kelp grew high and thick, hiding many aquatic animals. Octopus, urchins and crabs swam inside and a shark darted among the sardines, scattering their formation. As Nami walked along the glass wall, her neck craned upward, she spotted a shadowy figure at the top of the tank. She stopped and squinted. The shape was distorted by the water, but she was pretty sure the height and built belonged to someone she knew.

Nami searched the room and found a small stairway and hurried on up. At the top, there was another room brightly lit compare to the one before. A railed walkway extended across the aquarium, giving sightseers a nice view of the exhibit from above. And there was Sanji as plain as day, leaning against the rail and pointing at a fish below. Nami got close enough to overhear his conversation with someone.

"That's a leopard shark," Sanji said.

"Can you eat that?"

"Probably."

"What's that one over there?"

"Looks like a wolf-eel."

"Can you eat that too?"

"I don't see why not," Sanji answered with a chuckle.

That voice stopped Nami dead in her tracks. She was about to admonish Sanji for disappearing, but his voice threw her for a loop. She had thought she heard the last of his voice years ago. What the hell was he doing here? And hanging out with Sanji? Was the whole damn Universe conspiring against her? First it was Vivi and now him!

Nami considered making a hasty retreat before she was seen, but indeed the Universe was out to get her. Sanji turned his head and saw her. She was caught like a fish in a net.

"Nami!" Sanji and Luffy spoke in perfect unison.

The two turned and gave each other a surprised look.

"You know Nami?"

"She's my roommate. You?"

A huge grin spanned Luffy's face. "We use to date," he proclaimed.

"Really?" A silly expression appeared on Sanji's face. He looked over to Nami, who was trying very hard to hide her face under her hand. Sanji burst out laughing.

"Yes, yes. We dated back in college," Nami said in a grumpy voice. The cat was out of the bag.

"Wow! What's that fish over there?" Luffy shouted. He climbed over the rail and precariously leaned out for a better look.

Even Sanji stopped his sniggering and his gaze followed the direction Luffy was pointing at. A large round flat fish surfaced and then swam slowly back down below. "That is a sunfish. You can eat them. They are a delicacy in some countries."

"That's so cool. I wanna closer look." Luffy ran along the narrow metal bars that held up the walkway to reach the other end of the tank.

Nami rolled her eyes. Still the same Luffy. Easily distracted. Easily amused. He wore same hat that he wore every single day in college. The same grungy straw hat that he said was given to him when he was a kid. In fact, his sense of fashion hadn't changed at all since Nami last saw him. Even to a wedding, he wore sandals, shorts and a sleeveless shirt. She watched Luffy as he reached out to touch the giant fish, laughing in pure delight.

No point dwelling on things you couldn't control. Luffy was here and that was that. Nami turned back to Sanji and discovered he still had on the same silly expression. "What's so funny?" she demanded. She expected some smart-ass joke about her and Luffy.

"Nami, you look absolutely stunning." Sanji smiled.

Nami stared at him openmouthed and felt her cheeks warmed for some unknown reason. It took a few seconds for her to remember that she was peeved at him. "Never mind that. Where have you been? I've been looking for you."

"You have? Did you need me for something?"

There was yelp and loud splash of water. Alarmed, Nami looked over to where Luffy was last seen and saw him in the water. "Oh my god. Luffy fell in."

"Don't worry. None of the fish are dangerous," Sanji said calmly.

"He can't swim!"

Sanji stared at her in disbelief. "You're kidding me?"

"Hurry! Help him already," Nami cried.

"Why do I have to save him? He's your ex," Sanji groaned. He tore off his jacket and shoes, pulled his pack of cigarette from his pants pocket and set it carefully on top of his jacket.

"Go!" Nami pushed Sanji into the tank just as he managed to climb over the railing. There was another loud splash as he hit the water. Sanji quickly swam over to Luffy, who was bobbing up and down and making all kinds of spitting noises. Luffy's head briefly submerged when Sanji reached him.

In the matter of moments, Sanji dragged Luffy back and lifted him up onto the walkway. Nami hovered over him and checked for his breathing and pulse.

"Luffy? Are you all right?" Nami asked concerned. His eyes shut, he was deathly quiet.

Suddenly Luffy grinned and laughed. "That was funny!"

"Idiot!" Nami wanted to smack him. "You made me worry for nothing."

Sanji, sitting next to him, pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. He intended to light it, but stopped short and laughed too. Nami shook her head. Honestly, what was there to laugh about?

Out of nowhere, a tall woman screamed and ran up the platform to where the three of them were.

"Luffy darling, are you hurt?" She not so accidentally knocked Nami aside and hugged Luffy. Luffy gagged from the force of her grip. Nami, her arms flapping for something to grab, lost her balance and fell into the water.

When Nami came up and was swimming upright, she saw the woman ran off with Luffy in her arms. Nami climbed back up wet, her makeover ruined and stared speechlessly at Sanji. Sanji was not happy.

What just happened?


	12. The Banquet

Roommates

Drenched and smelling like fish, Nami and Sanji marched down the hall. The servants gave them puzzled looks until they noticed the trail of water they left behind. Then they turned livid and scurried off for a mop and bucket. Nami and Sanji finally made it back to their rooms without anymore incidents where ran into a little problem: only one bathroom.

"None of this 'ladies first' shit. I'm using the bathroom first."

"No." Nami stomped her foot. She wasn't moving out of the bathroom. "I'm the bridesmaid. I'm more important. You're just some random guy tagging along."

Sanji's eyes narrowed. "If you only gone in to save your ex like you're suppose to, only one of us would have gotten soaked. That lady was mad at you."

"That's not my fault. You're the one that brought Luffy up there in the first place," Nami spat at Sanji. "Were you planning on getting cozy with him?"

"Fine." Sanji waved her off. He tossed his jacket on his bed and unbuttoned his sleeves. "Let's settle this like grownups."

Apparently that meant a game of rock-paper-scissors with Sanji. One toss of the hand declared Sanji the winner. He smugly shooed Nami out and locked the door on her side.

Nami glared at the bathroom door and growled. Rather than wait for her turn, she decided to take the initiative and find another bathroom. Stripping off her wet clothes, she changed underwear and pulled on T-shirt. She scouted the hallway barefoot and to her relief found an unoccupied bathroom not too far away. The bathroom was massive with a huge porcelain tub in the middle of the room. She filled it with hot water, dropped a few bath salts and hopped in for a long refreshing soak. It was so relaxing.

Alone in the tub, Nami wondered how she was going to get through the rest of the weekend. Luffy of all people. It was awkward and embarrassing seeing him again. What was he doing here? Did he know Vivi's family? And who was the lady who carried him off? So many annoying questions. Whatever the answers were, she decided it was best to avoid him and that woman.

Nami glanced down at her hands and admired her lovely manicure. They were still intact. Probably the only thing that survived the watery plunge. She briefly thought about what Sanji said to her. It was the first time she recalled him complimenting her on anything. Coming from a gay man, she must have looked pretty. She smiled warmly at the idea.

When Nami was done with her bath, she looked around for a towel. There wasn't any. The bathroom had every other toiletry available, but no towel. What a mess. Dripping wet, she put on her clothes and opened the bathroom door. She peered up and down the hallway to find it devoid of any living soul and then bolted for her room.

Back in the safety of her room, Nami was happy to discover clean towels on the top shelf of the wardrobe. While drying herself, she noticed the bathroom door was left ajar. She called Sanji's name to make her presence known before stepping in. She did not want to walk in and see him naked.

The bathroom was steamy with the towels thrown carelessly on the bathmat. His wet clothes hung on the rack next to the tub. Otherwise the bathroom was vacant. Nami tiptoed over the mess, pressed her ear against the door and listened. It sounded quiet on his side. Boldly she gripped doorknob and pushed the door open.

Nami sighed. Gone again. That man was hard to keep track of.

After rubbing moisturizer over herself, she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Too much happened and the week wasn't over yet. Who knew weddings were such a pain in the ass. Right now the bed was so comfortable and inviting. She really could use a nap. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep.

Nami woke with a start. For a moment she forgot where she was and felt disoriented.

"Why aren't you getting dress?" Sanji charged in her room and switched on the lights. "You've been sleeping here the whole time?"

Nami sat up and yawned. "What are you doing in here?"

"Trying to get you ready. Hurry up and change."

"What for? Just let me sleep." Nami slumped back down and pulled the cover over herself.

Sanji wasn't being cooperative and yanked the sheets off. "It's almost time for dinner. You can't miss this banquet. It's your duty as a bridesmaid to attend."

Nami groaned and climbed out of bed. Sanji went back to the bathroom to fix his hair. He was already impeccably dressed in a black double-breasted suit and a satin split stripe tie. A pocket square was tucked neatly into his suit jacket and gold enamel cuff links graced his sleeves. Always the snazzy dresser, he was.

The only dress she brought along was still jammed at the bottom of her duffel bag. In hindsight, Nami should have gone out and purchased a decent evening gown, but she didn't have the time. Sadly, her black cocktail dress seemed too plain for something as fine and regal as a wedding banquet. Suddenly she didn't feel like dressing up.

Sanji popped his head into her room to check on her progress. "What are you doing? Don't wear that. Put on the dress they brought you."

"What dress? What are you talking about?"

"Did you look in your closet?" he asked exasperated.

Nami checked and was surprised to see something hanging in the closet. That didn't belong to her and it wasn't there before when she woke up this morning. Nami scrambled to her feet and moved in for a closer inspection. It was an apricot silk chiffon dress with sheer flutter sleeves. It was designed with a V-neckline and an empire waist, looking very elegant and chic.

Sanji stood, his arms folded, and watched her with an amused expression. "Are you going to put that on, or you going to stare at it all night?"

Soft and light, the dress fit perfectly on her. Nami spun around, letting the skirt flare out. It was the cutest thing ever. She had to thank Vivi for it. She turned to Sanji to show off the results.

Sanji only frowned. "We got to do something about your hair. Did you fall asleep without drying it first?"

Nami caught her reflection in the mirror and sobbed. Her hair was wild and crazy with one side higher than the other. Brushing didn't alter its odd shape. Sanji helped the best he could with damage control. He suggested to tie her hair into a tight bun. They didn't have much time to do anything else.

Putting on the final touches with some makeup, Nami stored away her lipstick when Sanji suddenly presented his arm to her. Nami hesitated before taking it and then he escorted her to the banqueting hall.

"Inquiring minds would like to know," Sanji asked as they walked. "You and Luffy?"

"It wasn't serious," Nami said curtly. She had the feeling he would try to pry. "More like peer pressure made me do it. All my friends in college thought we would make such a cute couple."

He laughed. "I was surprised. I didn't think he was your type, but I must confess. He is adorable. I almost want to pinch his cheeks."

Wonderful. He wanted to pinch his cheeks. She wanted to punch his lights out.

"So there's no hard feelings between the two of you?" Sanji continued.

"No. None. More annoyed than anything. Why are you asking this?"

"Nothing really." Sanji shrugged his shoulders. But Nami knew he was lying.

There was a predinner gathering in the gallery. The huge gallery was festive and luminous with hundreds of candles twinkling on crystal chandeliers. The walls were hung with banners and portraits of various ancient-looking people. The assembled guests were dressed in fine attire, dripping in gold and gems.

Nami felt a wave of anxiety hit her the moment she stepped in. The whole event was bigger than she had anticipated. It was more intimidating than any of the presentations she did at work. Suddenly she clung to Sanji like a scared little girl. Despite their little squabble over the bathroom and his habit of disappearing, she was glad he was here with her. He knew exactly what to do at these social events. Standing next to him, Nami's social ineptitude wouldn't be so obvious.

"Nami. You look wonderful. I'm so glad you made it." Vivi and Kohza pushed through the crowd to greet them.

"Vivi," Nami exclaimed. Vivi wore a beautiful blue and green gown that shimmered in the candlelight. She took hold of Nami's arm and pulled her away from Sanji.

"We are going to have a little girl talk. We won't be long," Vivi said. Sanji politely nodded and they strolled away.

When they were out of hearing range of any bystander, Vivi whispered, "What happened? I heard you took a swim in the aquarium."

Nami winced. She had been hoping the dunk in the fish tank would have gone unnoticed. "It was an accident."

"An accident? How did it happen?"

"Well..." Nami stammered. It was better if she came clean and told her the whole story. Nami chose her words carefully and described the incident. She neglected to mention that she and Luffy dated briefly, which she thought wasn't that important anyways. She simply referred to him as an old college chum.

"That's a funny story, Nami." Vivi giggled lightly.

"It is to you," Nami grumbled.

"I'm sure years from now you'll look back and find it hilarious." Vivi looked through the crowd of people. "I don't think I see her here."

"Do you know her?" Nami asked. She also searched the crowd. No sign of her, which was fine by her.

"Not personally. My father invited a lot of people. I haven't even met half of them yet. The way you described her, I believe she was Empress Hancock."

"Empress? Empress of what? Is there still an empire left in this day of age?"

"I think it's a very small empire. More like an island really," Vivi explained. "Igaram said she brought a lot of people with her so extra arrangements had to be made for her."

"Including Luffy," Nami said, shaking her head. How did Luffy know someone like her? But then again, he had many friends. Many odd friends.

"It's a small world after all," Vivi sang softly.

The dinner gong rang.

Kohza made a beeline for Vivi and they led the procession into the banqueting room. Nami panicked when she couldn't find Sanji. Every woman was paired with a man and it seemed it was protocol to be escorted in. She stood in the middle of the empty gallery, feeling lost and abandoned. She didn't feel brave enough to wander in by herself. Finally his familiar black suit made his appearance, but he wasn't alone.

"Luffy," Nami gasped. For once, Luffy was dressed decently in a dinner jacket and pants. His straw hat was still present but was left off his head and dangling around his neck. What was Sanji doing with him again?

"Nami!" Luffy cried happily. He gave her a big wave, ran up to her, and took her arm.

Stunned, Nami found herself trapped between Luffy and Sanji. She didn't have a chance to protest.

"We mustn't be late," Sanji said cheerfully. He guided Nami towards the banqueting hall.

"What are you doing?" Nami hissed at Sanji. "Are you crazy? Why did you bring him?"

"I've stolen him away from her. Now smile like you're having a grand time."

Nami bared her teeth into a fearsome smile. She really wanted to bite Sanji's head off, but he was too busy grinning like an idiot to notice her displeasure. Remembering the other fool she was with, Nami shifted her attention over to her escort on her right. "Luffy, what a surprised to see you again. Where is your lady friend, Empress Hancock? Shouldn't you be with her?"

Luffy sulked. "She was taking too long." Then his face lit up. "Sanji said it was okay to go with you guys. I'm hungry."

"Heavens. She must have been misinformed of the time. What poor luck." Sanji chortled in a sinister tone.

Nami couldn't believe her ears. Sanji planned the whole thing. What was he trying to pull here? And to complicated things even further, the seating assignment took on a twisted surprise. Luffy sat right smack in the middle of her and Sanji. Sanji said he didn't mind at all, but Nami was frantic.

"Are you sure there isn't a mistake? Isn't this table reserved for the bridesmaids and groomsmen? Shouldn't he be at another table?" Nami questioned.

"There is no mistake," the steward in black and silver livery stated firmly. He seemed offended that Nami even suggested there was a mistake. When there was nothing more, he clicked his heels and left to deal with the other guests.

As Sanji was pulling out the chair for Nami, she quickly spoke in a low voice, "Sanji please switch seats with Luffy. I don't want to sit next to him."

"Why would you want me to do that? You'll hurt his feelings," Sanji said with a serene innocence. "You know. What you should do is give him a nice peck on the cheek, especially when she gets here. Or should I do that?"

Her jaw dropped.

The meal began with course after course of rich delicious food. Luffy immediately gorged down his food like a starving man. Bite after bite, chucks of food vanished into his mouth. A virtual black hole. While most people were still on their first, he finished his plate and was on his fourth. Watching him eat with his hands and pieces of food flying out of his mouth, Nami soon lost her appetite. Of course Luffy asked for her food when she didn't touch hers. On the other hand, Sanji was simply delighted with him, feeding him portions off his own plate and dabbing his mouth with a napkin. She even saw him pinch his cheek.

Mande sat next to Nami and by her was a fellow Nami had not seen before. He was short compare to Mande with a funny-looking mustache. Both gave her a questioning look. "He's an old college friend," Nami muttered.

"We use to date!" Luffy said with a mouth full of food.

Nami covered her face with her hands and moaned.

At that moment a bevy of beautiful, but scantily clad women stormed the banqueting hall. They were slightly out of breath and flustered. The leader scrutinized the entire room until her eyes fell on their table. Nami wanted to disappear.

The steward approached them only to halt in his track by Hancock's outstretched hand. She alone slowly strode her way towards their table, her hips swaying with each step. Nami stared at her, wondering what an empress would do and say. She looked furious. This could be one of those international incidents Nami read about in school. The kind that started wars.

When Hancock reached their table, she tossed back her hair and cleared her throat, garnering attention from people seated at other tables. Luffy, oblivious to it all, was still stuffing his face. "Luffy honey. Why didn't you wait for me?" Hancock whined.

"Oi Hancock, you made it! The food is really good. You should try some." Luffy waved a leg shank at her as if he was offering his piece. He rarely shared his food.

"We should go to our table, Luffy."

"But I wanna sit here," Luffy pouted stubbornly. "Sanji and Nami feed me."

Hancock glared at Nami. Nami almost objected out loud. She certainly was not feeding Luffy. Only Sanji was doing that. Luffy was stealing food off her plate.

After a short and unproductive conversation, Luffy stayed where he was and Hancock was led away to her own table by the steward. No amount of cajoling or bribery convinced Luffy to leave with her. Sanji smirked.

The rest of the night went horribly for Nami with Hancock giving her the evil eye every time she glanced in her direction. It wasn't her fault, Nami thought. Couldn't she see what Sanji was doing to Luffy? It was way worst than what happened to Usopp at his birthday party. When dessert arrived, Sanji sat closely to Luffy and had taken up feeding him with a spoon. At one point, he leaned in to Luffy to whisper something, which freaked Nami out because it looked like he was trying to nibble his ear. Then again, maybe he was.

Luffy laughed out loud and returned his gesture by whispering back to Sanji, "Nami snores so loud." It wasn't much of a whisper since everyone at the table heard that.

The banquet concluded with an endless stream of toasts to the bride and groom. Champagne bottles were brought out and opened with satisfying pops. A great deal of people leaped up from their chair and shouted their toasts. It was an uncontrollable with glasses being raised and clinking against each other. Even Sanji and Luffy stood up and gave Vivi and Kohza a toast.

Nami beamed and downed her champagne like everyone else. She had murderous thoughts lingering in the back of her mind. When this was all over, Sanji was so dead.


	13. The Big Day

Roommates

Somehow Sanji survived the night. He was tipsy, but alive. The alcohol kept coming even when Vivi and Kohza had retired for the night. And who could resist free booze. Everything became funnier when you had too much to drink. Sanji certainly drank more than his share. And at that instance, he looked so sleepy and vulnerable, Nami didn't have it in her to stay angry at him.

The seat between them was empty. Luffy had been snatched away by the combined effort of Empress Hancock's women. Like covert agents, they created a diversion and moved in when everyone was distracted. It was very impressive since Nami didn't see them take Luffy. Who knew where he was now.

Of course, Sanji was disappointed. "At least he was with us most of the night," he said forlornly.

"If you say so." Nami took another sip from her drink. The banqueting room was nearly empty. Only a handful of guests remained. Mande left an hour ago, carrying off her male companion. He also had a bit too much to drink.

"Are you still so mean? He's a wonderful boy!"

"I think it's time we went to bed. You're plastered." Nami took a hold of his arm and pulled him onto his feet. Tomorrow was the big day and it was better if everyone had a full night's sleep.

"I'm fine." Sanji stood unsteadily and then gripped the chair. "Whoa. Everything is spinning."

Nami laughed. "You can't hold your liquor and I had more than you."

They made it out of the banqueting hall. Sanji staggered down the stairs. He was definitely more than a little tipsy. He needed help navigating the hallway and ended up leaning into Nami for support.

"Sometimes I wonder where we would be if you were a man," he said suddenly.

Nami quietly digested his words, trying to understand the meaning behind his bizarre statement. "A man? I think I would be interested in girls."

"How do you know?"

"I'm assuming I would be."

"Are you sure?"

"No," she answered, a little annoyed. "But I don't see anyway of finding out."

"Hmm... True."

Nami dumped Sanji on his bed and then returned to her own room. She carefully took off her nice dress and hung it neatly back in the closet. The bathroom, she noticed, was cleaned and dried and all the wet clothes removed from her room. Did Sanji take care of that or the servants? Probably the later since she couldn't imagine Sanji going out of his way to do her any favors. Not unless she badgered him.

After she cleaned up and changed into her pajamas, she promptly went to sleep.

The morning started much like the previous one, with Mande waking her up and whisking her away. It gave Nami a feeling of déjà vu. It was earlier than yesterday and there was barely time for a quick breakfast. She didn't have a chance to check up on Sanji, who was probably dealing with a small hangover. They headed straight to Vivi's room again.

It was the final battle, Ragnarök, Armageddon. Everyone was there. The seamstresses, Mr. Galdino and the shampoo lady. Only the nail technician was absent. Nami didn't see Vivi anywhere, but Nami assumed she was already being worked on by a dozen or so people.

The shampoo lady grabbed her first, setting a towel around her shoulders. She pushed her back in her chair and dunked her hair in a washing bowl, where she wrangled with her hair, pulling and clawing at it. It took all of Nami's willpower not to cry out in tears. What was wrong with this woman? Luckily, Nami only needed one washing and then she was sent Mr. Galdino.

"No waxing, no waxing, no waxing," Nami chanted under her breath as she was led away by the man. Surprisingly, the chant worked. Mr. Galdino blow-dried her hair and that was it. For now.

The seamstresses took over and pulled her behind a folding screen, where she was stripped to her undies again. Exposed and helpless, a lavender dress was dropped over her head like a net catching a wild animal. It took a while before Nami saw the light of day again.

Thankfully, her dress wasn't the typical bridesmaid horror dress that people always joked about. It was really very lovely. An off-the-shoulder, floor-length silk taffeta gown. Mande wore a similar colored gown. A strapless with an empire waist. Maybe there was an appealing side to this wedding business afterall, Nami thought when she looked in the mirror.

Mande and Nami chatted excitedly as their hair were being done. Suddenly the head seamstress appeared and clapped twice. Everyone immediately scrambled and cleared a path. The grand finale. Vivi finally made her entrance. What Nami saw took her breath away.

As delicate as a snowflake, Vivi carefully trended into the room. Three seamstresses were still tending to the skirt and straightening the long train that dragged behind her. Embroidered with lace and beads, the dress was majestic and flowing. A dazzling silver tiara sat atop her head.

Vivi was nervous and giddy. Her hands were clasped together, almost trembling. "So how do I look?"

Nami beamed. "You look just like a princess."

The wedding was to take place outdoor. Nami stood by the window, watching a parade of people gather around the pavilion. The weather was perfect. Clear and bright without a trace of cloud in the sky. What could possibly ruin it?

It should be pointed that Nami had been indoor the entire time since her arrival. There was only that brief few seconds where she was actually stood outside and noticed the uncommonly hot and dry weather of Alabasta. Alabasta was a desert, miles away from the coastline and so deep inland that any chance of a cool sea breeze reaching it was dismal. Land was cheap and unpopulated because of those reasons. Of course all of that was forgotten with everything that had happened to her: dress fitting, makeover, ex-boyfriend, dive in aquarium, ex-boyfriend's friend and etc.

Nami felt herself wilt like a flower the moment the doors opened. The sun was searing. The air heated like it was blown from an oven. It was a miracle she made it to the pavilion without fainting. She was glad she didn't stumble or trip when they made the long march down the aisle. At least she didn't recall doing anything embarrassing like that. Even being under the shade of the pavilion didn't alleviate her from the fiery of the sun.

"Dearly beloved, we are gather here today to witness the union of blah, blah, blah..." Seriously, the minister didn't say the last part, but Nami had tuned him out. An decrepit tiny man, his voice was so slow and monotonous, he was going to put her to sleep if she continued to listen to him. It was a struggle to hold up her bouquet and keep up her smile.

The minister kept talking and talking and talking. He went on and on about the importance of harmony, understanding, patience and all that other marriage rubbish. How long was he going to talk? Vivi and Kohza were staring into each other eyes in complete loving awe. They really did make a cute couple. Now if only the minister would hurry up and marry them already. Nami heaved a tiny sigh and her eyes started to wander.

In the crowd of seated people, Nami spotted Sanji. He wasn't hard to find. He was the only damn fool wearing black in plus 90-degree weather. A three-piece suit with a little rose pinned to the lapel. Every other man was wearing light colored suits like tan, cream or grey, and they were still perspiring and panting like dogs. Actually, only Luffy was panting like a dog. No surprise that he was sitting next to Sanji. Luffy gave Nami a big wave when he saw her looking at him. Nami rolled her eyes. And of course sitting next to Luffy was her favorite empress in the whole wide world. Hancock was still shooting death rays at her along with her entourage of women.

Nami shifted uncomfortably and checked back on the ceremony. The minister was still talking. "Life is a journey, blah, blah, blah..." Bored, she returned her attention to the crowd again. Sanji was sporting a pair of sunglasses and grinning. He looked hot, but he wasn't hot.

Wait, did that make any sense? He was hot, but he wasn't hot. Oh god, her brain was fried. She wasn't thinking straight. She was suffering from a heatstroke for sure. Now Sanji looked hot to her in that fancy suit of his. Very hot. How could he be so hot and yet not be hot in scorching weather like this? The heat didn't faze him in the least bit. It was so unfair.

There was an uproar of applause and music and an explosion of flower petals rained down on them. Nami whipped back to the ceremony and groaned inwardly. Vivi and Kohza finished kissing.

Crap! Nami missed the most important part and all because she was staring at Sanji. Blah. All she could do was smile and clap. Oh well, there was still the complimentary wedding video. At least the ceremony was finally over.

Happily, the crowd migrated indoors into the ballroom, where cake and champagne were served. Sanji slipped through the cluster of people and found his way towards her.

"Wasn't it a lovely wedding. You look beautiful in that dress."

"Thanks," Nami said exhausted. She grabbed his arm with both her hands and was literally hanging onto him for dear life. Briefly, she wondered if he would be grossed out by her clinging, but decided he could handle it.

"Still think weddings aren't fun and exciting?"

"Tiring."

Sanji laughed. "Poor thing," he said and then patted her head. "You did a good thing today. I'll make you something special when we get back."

"Nami," Mande called as she strode over to them. She pried Nami loose from Sanji. "Vivi is going to toss the bouquet."

Nami shook her head. "I don't want anything to do with that."

"Nonsense. It will be fun." Mande dragged her to a group of women. Vivi stood in front, waiting for them.

Vivi waved to Nami and gave her a knowing wink. Nami became alarmed. Vivi had better not be thinking about throwing the bouquet at her.

"Everyone ready?" Vivi asked.

There were squeals of excitement. Who knew there were so many single women dying to get married. Nami gave in and stood with them, but she made sure to stand way in the back. So far back that it didn't like look she was part of the group.

"One, two, three!" Vivi tossed the bouquet over her shoulder.

Let it be known: never underestimate Vivi. She always did have the best floater pitch on the softball team and her aim was still just as good even after all these years.

The bouquet sailed through air, passed all the grasping hands and headed straight for Nami. There was nothing Nami could do except catch the silly thing. She closed her eyes and held out her hands. And nothing happened.

When Nami slowly opened her eyes, it was a sight to behold.

There was Hancock as imposing as ever in her long red dress. She was leaning so far back, her giant boobs were threatening to pop out of her clothes. Like a trophy, she held the bouquet high in the air. An incredible, one-handed catch.

Hancock's entourage applauded wildly. The rest of the women were baffled. How did she move so fast? Like a hurricane.

With that out of the way, Nami prowled the back of the crowd and claimed an empty chair. Her feet were killing her. Sanji vanished again, but she assumed he was still somewhere. Suddenly there were wild shouts and hoots at the front of the ballroom. Nami looked and saw a gathering of rowdy men this time. Was it for the garter tossing?

Sure enough, Kohza knelt in front of Vivi as she lifted her skirt. Carefully, Kohza slipped the lacy blue garter off her leg. This made the men go crazy with wolf whistles and howls. Nami frowned as Vivi blushed from embarrassment. Sometimes traditions made no sense at all. After the men quieted down to a manageable level, Kohza finally tossed the garter into the crowd. The result was chaos and pandemonium, mostly because Hancock's female minions were also involved. Any man that was about to lay his hand on the lacy elastic band got tackled, tripped or knocked down by them. They were ruthless and unstoppable. Nami was so happy nothing like that happened to her.

By magic, or some divine intervention, the garter slid across the marble floor until it reached the feet of Sanji and Luffy. So that was where Sanji was, Nami thought. The two appeared to be in the middle of a lively conversation. Luffy had cake all over his mouth. When they noticed the garter, they both stared down at it like it was like some strange insect. Of course, Sanji wouldn't touch it even if his life was at stake. Luffy wasn't so bright.

The moment Luffy picked up the garter, it was all over for him. The poor boy didn't stand a chance.

Like before, Hancock appeared out of nowhere, grabbed Luffy and ran off with him in her arms. Everyone in the ballroom was speechless, including Nami and Sanji, even though it was the second time they had seen it happen.

When the cake was consumed to the last crumb and the alcohol was drank to the last drop, Nami, Mande and the groomsmen were assigned the arduous task of seeing off the guests. And there were hundreds and hundreds of them, all lined up to give their congratulations to Vivi and Kohza. Over and over, Nami shook their hands and heard their compliments of how magnificent the weddings was and how wonderful the couple looked. Through it all, Nami smiled and prayed for the end.

By the time Nami and Sanji were ready to leave Alabasta, it was close to evening. The weather had cool to a mild warm temperature and the setting sun was streaming across the landscape. Nami had another long boring drive to look forward to. She decided to take the day off from work tomorrow. After this weekend, she needed a day to recover.

"Don't be a stranger," Vivi said as she embraced Nami.

"Then visit me. We can go shopping. You'll love the shops in the City."

Vivi nodded.

Nami was about to climb into rental when Luffy bounded out of the mansion. "Nami!" he called.

She stopped and turned to him. He was out of breath. "Luffy?"

"It was good to see you again." He grinned. Without any warning, he stepped in and gave her a peck on the cheek. Nami blushed. "Take care."

Nami stared at him as he ran back inside. That was rather unexpected. She realized the scene she was creating and quickly hopped in the car. She rolled down the window and waved good-bye to Vivi and everyone else there. After starting the car and driving off, she stole a glance at her passenger. Sanji was awfully quiet the whole time, but he had a smile on his face.

"I told you he was adorable."

"Yes, he is." She laughed. "I guess he had his positive points when he wasn't driving me crazy."

"And weddings aren't so bad. Aren't you glad you came? Good friends, delicious food, nice clothes, lots of excitement."

"I suppose. I know I don't want to be a bridesmaid again. Too much work." Nami hit the gas and eased onto the interstate. Sanji grabbed the dashboard.

"It's only your first wedding," Sanji said after they were cruising at a steady speed. "What you need is to attend more of them. Then you'll know what I mean."

"Like that's going to happen. Who do I know that's close to getting married? Usopp?" Nami snorted.

Sanji shrugged his shoulders. He looked like he wanted to add something, but he must have changed his mind. Then he laughed unexpectedly. "You know what's funny. This is the first wedding I've been invited to."

It took a few seconds for the meaning of his words to sink in. Invited? But he didn't he say he loved weddings? Nami wanted to ask Sanji what he meant by that, but by then he was already playing with the car radio, blasting Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again" song.


	14. Clothes Shopping

Roommates

It was an early Saturday morning when Sanji approached her with a ludicrous idea. Nami had just settled down at the kitchen table with one of his fabulous coffee and the business section of the newspaper.

"Are you doing anything today?" Sanji asked. He dried a mug and put it back in the cupboard.

"Hmm..." Nami flipped through the pages of her paper, sipping her coffee. Gold prices were rising. She wondered if she should invest. "No, why?"

"If you're not busy, do you want to go shopping with me?"

Nami stopped her reading and pulled off her glasses. "Excuse me?"

"Shopping," Sanji said emphatically. "I want your opinion on some clothes."

"My opinion? On clothes? Men's clothes?" Nami eyed him warily.

"Yes, Nami Swan. Men's clothes."

There was a short pause. "Why?"

Sanji sighed at her. "Are you going to answer everything with a question? Do you want to come with me or not? I'll treat you to lunch."

Nami grinned. "You should have said that first. Of course, I'll go shopping with you." With that said, she promptly returned to her paper.

Nami knew something was up the moment Sanji invited her to go clothes shopping with him. First of all, they never shopped together. Though they were both avid shoppers, they were at polar ends on the shopping spectrum. In simpler terms, they had different tastes. He liked pricy, chic clothes. She liked cheap, comfy clothes. He bought food from specialty stores. She bought food from wholesale warehouses.

Secondly, what man in his right mind would willingly invite a woman to come along with him to go shopping. Gay or straight, the two genders rarely mingle in the pastime, and for a good reason. Like combining oil and water, the two don't mix. What eventually happens is either one or both parties end up bored and frustrated.

Out of curiosity, Nami went along with Sanji. What possible clothes could he be shopping for that he wanted her opinion? She didn't have the slightest clue. She got dressed and together they went to the subway.

It was as bad as Nami feared. The station they got off was a stop she never went to because it had nothing but high-end luxury department stores and ritzy hotels. It was no place for a practical and frugal gal like herself. It took a good amount of focus on her part to keep from gawking like a sightseer as they past fancy big-names like Tiffany, Four Seasons, Bloomingdale and Fifth Avenue. It was really hard not to stop and stare. The window displays, filled with the latest fashion, were singing out to her like sirens.

"Where are we going?" Nami asked. She jogged a little to keep up with Sanji's strides. People with long legs should have a speed limit tacked on them.

"You'll see," he said simply.

"What kind of clothes are you getting?"

"You'll see."

Nami and Sanji arrived to their destination: Neiman Marcus. The building was huge and bright. The entire front was nothing but glass so that you could see every floor and everything on them. They flew by the cosmetics and took the elevator straight to the men's floor, where they looked at neckties.

Nami couldn't believe it. Sanji had dragged her out, on a wonderful sunny Saturday, to look at neckties. And what did Nami know about neckties? Absolutely nothing. She couldn't even tie one on her own.

For about an hour, Sanji went through dozens and dozens of neckties. Every size, shape, color, pattern, and fabric under the sun. He tried them against his own clothes, then tested them against the different dress shirts the store had and then tested them again against the different assortment of tie clips.

Was there really this much work involved when buying neckties? Nami stood, arms folded, watching him pick out ties off the table. Every so often, Sanji stopped and asked what she thought. Her answers were short and simple, "That looked nice," or "It's okay." Nothing meaningful.

After all that work, Sanji made his choice and bought his tie. One necktie. It was boxed, wrapped with a satin ribbon and then put in a small shopping bag. All that time wasted and Nami didn't even know what that one necktie looked like. She was mad as hell. She only wanted to get out of there. The free lunch had better be worth the trouble.

Instead of the elevator, they took escalators down, which was a longer route going through all the floors. Compare to the bland state of the men's floor, the women's was a colorful fantasy world. Floor after floor of dresses, skirts, blouses, coats, purses, shoes and accessories. Nami couldn't help but admire them all.

"Try it on," Sanji suggested when he caught her eyeing a blouse.

Nami shook her head. "I couldn't."

"Why? It doesn't cost anything to try it on. Come on."

A sales attendant magically appeared and helped her find the right size. Nami guessed it couldn't hurt to try it on for fun. It was a really nice blouse. The fabric was so soft and shiny. It was like nothing she had seen before. Surprisingly, Sanji was looking at the other dresses and outfits.

"Here. Try these while you're in there." He gave a handful of clothes to the attendant. "Go. I'll be there in a second. I want to see how you look."

Nami was dumbfounded, but did as she was told. The attendant guided to her the fitting room. She tried on all the clothes the attendant carried. Some she didn't really care for. They looked good on the rack, but looked weird when she wore them. She stepped out and showed Sanji. He mostly shrugged his shoulders and gave strange looks at her.

"Are we done?" Nami said, sounding tired. She didn't know how many outfits she tried on. She lost count.

"One more," Sanji said as he shoved another outfit at her.

Nami glared at him. "That's what you said the last three outfits ago. Can we leave now?"

"Just one more," he insisted.

Nami sighed and grabbed the hanger from him. Her eyes narrowed. It was another skirt outfit with a tweed jacket. She noticed a pattern to all the clothes Sanji picked out. They were either skirts or dresses.

Nami grumbled inwardly. She saw this before. Not that Sanji was the first to try. Other people tried before, and failed miserably. Her girl friends always told her to include more feminine clothes to her wardrobe. She resisted stubbornly. Growing up on farm and her mother being a retired military officer, skirts and dresses were not a normal part of her upbringing.

To begin with, skirts were uncomfortable and inconvenient. They needed more maintenance compare to pants. How you move and sit required extra attention and work, and oftentimes the weather was too chilly to wear them. And then she had to deal with the pantyhose. Just as equally as annoying. Nami couldn't recall the last time she wore a skirt voluntarily. She put up with them for social functions and special events: job interviews, parties, and a wedding. If she could get away with wearing a nice pair of jeans, she would.

Nami stood in the fitting room and stared at the outfit. The skirt was made out a white pleated taffeta. Admittedly, Nami was impressed by it. It was smooth and airy. The beige jacket was well designed and the collar was lined with soft fur.

Better get it over with, she thought. She quickly changed clothes again. She buttoned up the jacket and straightened it in the full-length mirror. She came out of the dressing room and showed the result to Sanji, making sure to he didn't see that she actually liked this one.

Sanji brightened and nodded in approval. "Very nice. It looks good on you. You should get it." The sales attendant heartily agreed with him. Of course, Nami wouldn't call her an impartial judge. Hell, she probably got sales commission.

Her mind hesitated for a second. "You want me to buy it?"

"Why not? Don't you like it?" Sanji asked.

Nami turned back to the mirror and looked again. For one crazy moment, she actually considered Sanji's suggestion. She hadn't bought anything nice for herself in a long time and the outfit was really lovely. She wouldn't have minded the inconveniences wearing a skirt like this. Of course, she would need a pair of nice shoes to go along with it. And a new handbag.

"How much is it?" Her hands fumbled around the folds of the skirt until she found the sales tag and then she forgot how to breathe. "Two thousand dollars!" Nami exclaimed when she took a breath of air. She shot a look at Sanji, who was presently looking somewhere else.

This whole outfit cost two thousand? Was he nuts? Who buys two thousand dollar outfits? Wait a second, the tag was only on the skirt. The jacket had one too. She searched the inside of the jacket and then the sleeves for the elusive sales tag.

"Don't look," Sanji warned. He winced when she did look.

The damage was double: four thousand dollars. All together she was wearing six thousand dollars worth of clothing. Nami felt lightheaded. She needed to sit down and then realized she couldn't because she would be sitting on a two thousand dollar skirt.

"It's a Dior," Sanji explained weakly.

Like that was suppose to make her feel better. Unhappily Nami returned the outfit to the sales attendant. She couldn't get out of the department store fast enough.

After her first and only visit to a superfancy department store, Nami vowed never to return there. There was no point. She would never buy anything from there. Way out of her league. Everything there was grossly overpriced. How could people waste so much money without a second thought? Like they didn't have a care in the world. The idea screamed against her sensible and rational side.

As they walked back to the subway station, the shopping district was business as usual. No one knew Nami was in a foul mood. She charged up ahead, passing shoppers, office workers and tourists. Sanji straggled, his hands dug in his pants pockets. He seemed to know he was in trouble and kept his mouth shut.

"What about lunch?" Sanji spoke. "I still owe you a lunch. Where do you want to eat?"

Nami was about to make a snappy remark when she realized he was right. She considered making him take her to one of those fancy-pansy restaurant and ordering the most expensive dish on the menu, just to be cruel and spiteful. But that would contradict everything she thought about wasting money so carelessly on unnecessary things.

Nami thought a bit about what she wanted to eat. It was strange to decide where to eat. She always let Sanji choose the place and sometimes even let him pick out the food for her. He never steered her wrong. It was easy and safe for her, because secretly she always felt uncomfortable if she had to make the decision. What if he disapproved of her choice? What if he thought she had terrible taste in food? Sanji being the gourmet chef, it was a little intimidating. But given the current circumstances, Nami didn't care what he thought.

"I know where we can eat," she said finally.

They walked a little further until they got to the entrance to the subway station and then they got in line. There were three people ahead of them. Nami had spotted it earlier when they arrived. A hot dog cart with a giant, red and yellow parasol.

"You want to eat a hot dog?" Sanji asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I want everything on it. And chilly cheese fries. And a lemonade."

Sanji wanted to protest further, but Nami gave him a look that told him not to argue. It didn't take long before it was their turn. Sanji ordered everything she wanted and even bought a hot dog for himself, but he only had mustard put on his.

Sanji made a motion to leave with the paper carton full of food, but Nami didn't follow. Instead she grabbed her hot dog, which was whooping huge dog covered in mustard, onion, relish, dill pickle, tomato and pepper and started eating it.

"Are we going eat it here? Wouldn't you like to sit?" Sanji asked.

"I don't feel like looking for a place. Just eat standing. You can hold my food." It was more of a command than a request. Sanji relented again.

The hot dog was good. Full of sodium, cholesterol and fat, the stuff that clog arteries and raise blood pressures. Nami finished her hot dog before Sanji, but then again he was stuck juggling his hot dog and her food.

"Are you going to work after this?" Nami took a sip from her lemonade and started working on her chili cheese fries.

"Later. I don't need to be in early today. What are you going to do after this?"

"I'm going shopping," Nami announced. "I'm not going home empty-handed." She noticed a drop of mustard on his necktie and wondered if she should tell him or not. She decided not to. She was sure he would eventually find out and she wanted the mustard to settle in first, get comfortable and dry out.

"Where?"

"You're not coming with me."

"Why not? I want to know where you do your shopping."

"You're not coming with me," Nami repeated a little louder.

"How can you stop me if I follow you?"

"You're not coming with me." Nami gritted her teeth at him.

"Keep saying that and I'm definitely following you."

After Sanji finished his hot dog and Nami her chili cheese fries, they headed back into the subway. Nami thought about ditching him in the crowd, but really, that wasn't possible. Maybe he would get tired and go to work, so she decided to ride the subway train for a long time. Unfortunately for her, Sanji was very persistent and he stuck by her like glue. Several times he asked her where her stop was, but she ignored him.

Even Nami had her limits on how long she could ride the subways. She got off the train and transferred to another line with Sanji right behind her heels. There was no avoiding it.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and pointed a finger at him. "You say anything stupid and I'll..." her voice trailed as she tried to think of a suitable threat.

He smiled and held up his hands defensively. "I'll be a perfect gentleman."

Nami snorted at him.

Like the name implied, the night market operated at night. Nami rarely made the trip to the night market simply because it was a long trip and by the time she got home it was really late. Most of the small shops were just opening their doors, laying out their wares. The streets weren't crowded now but by the time all the shops were fully open they would be. There were many different food stands, serving frozen treats, snacks, barbecue and foreign food. She especially liked the free samples they gave out.

"I didn't know there was something like this here," Sanji murmured. He glanced at the food stands and then at the numerous college boys wandering around.

Nami rolled her eyes at his behavior. "Well it's not exactly your cup of tea, so I'm not surprised you've never been here before."

"I can handle this place," Sanji said slowly. His head turned to follow another group of young men.

Oh god. Was he going to drool over them all night? Given how close the night market was to the university, there were plenty of students. It was a popular hang out spot for them.

"Come on. Let's go." Nami grabbed his wrist, reminding him he was with her and dragged him off to the clothing shops.

The stores were bursting with clothes. Some were crammed in tight together on racks. Others were simply thrown into big piles on tables. Obviously Nami wasn't going to find anything like the skirt and jacket from the department store here, but there were plenty of other clothes. Cheap clothes. She joined a few other women as they dug through a pile of clothing. Sanji stood on the sideline and watched. He became aghast when the merchant came in and dumped another box full of clothes on the table. It was like a feeding-frenzy when the women all converged on the new pile.

Feeling very victorious, Nami merged with a couple cute shirts, a tank top and a T-shirt. All for a few bucks. Not bad. She showed her purchases to Sanji. He only shrugged his shoulders. "What?" she demanded angrily. "They're a good deal. Better than the Dior!" She stuck her tongue at him.

"You get what you paid for. Anyways, women's clothes aren't that interesting to me."

Nami glared at him. Didn't he try to dress her with all those girly outfits from that overpriced department store? "You want to look at something you can wear then? I'll take you to the men's stores. There are a few here." Again she grabbed his wrist and dragged him off.

There were certainly no suits or anything remotely formal or semi-formal to be found at the night market. Mostly casual and sportswear. Sanji appeared uninterested when Nami showed him a T-shirt. "What's wrong with it?" she snapped.

"I don't like it," he stated, turning his head in another direction.

"Why? What's wrong with it? It looks nice." It was a red graphic Tee.

Sanji gave her a look that told her it was a silly question.

Nami became angry. "Don't be so picky and try something new. You always wear black."

"I like wearing black," Sanji said softly. He sounded offended.

"Yes, I know that very well. But there's nothing wrong with adding a little more color. And something that isn't a suit."

"You don't like my suits." Now he sounded upset.

"There's nothing wrong with your suits. I just think you could look good in other kinds of clothing." Nami gave a nervous half laugh, half cough. Did she compliment him? She wasn't sure and it was too late to amend it without sounding like a bubbling idiot.

Sanji gave the T-shirt another look and took it from her. "I'll give it a try. Do they have a changing room here?"

"This way," Nami directed with a smirk.

The changing room wasn't really a room. More like a closet with sliding curtains. Nami held his coat and his shopping bag as he stepped in to change.

Now Nami wasn't going let a rare opportunity like this get away without abusing it. She quickly ran through the shop and snatched any T-shirt, jersey, and sweatshirt that could fit him. She even tossed in a couple of ripped up jeans in her haste, though she was clueless about his pants size. All of these distinctively unfashionable clothing that she collected was payback.

The look on Sanji's face was priceless.

"Here, try on these too." Nami dumped them into his arms.

"You're not serious. I don't think these will fit me."

Nami pushed him back into the closet. "Put them on. I'll go look for more." She was having too much fun. Picking out clothes for someone else was an unexpected entertainment. Sanji was a good sport and modeled everything she brought him without too much grumbling.

In the end, Nami tired Sanji out. He surrendered and bought whatever she recommended to him, which was a fair amount of clothing. Whether or not, he would ever wear them was another matter.

Sanji was putting on his own clothes when he spotted the dried mustard stain on his necktie. He stared suspiciously at Nami and she smiled sweetly back in return.

Their shopping done, they staked out a table by a street vendor with Nami munching happily on a yummy churro.

Sanji leaned back in his chair and took a long drag on his cigarette. "You've got endurance. I'll give you that."

Nami giggled.

Slowly Sanji's eyes started to wander. He sat up and tilted his head over to the side. "Check out that one by pretzel cart."

Nami turned her head, wondering what Sanji was talking about. She saw a dark skinny man with scruffy hair and beard. He had dark circles under his eyes and earrings on each of his ear. Creepy would be the word to describe him. The kind of guy you wouldn't want to make eye contact in an empty alley.

"What do you think?" Sanji asked in a sly manner.

Was Sanji asking for her opinion in men now? "Uh... well..." Nami stammered, trying to find the right words. She could only shake her head and return to her churro. His taste in men was seriously questionable. And he made fun of her with Luffy.

"No comment at all? Aren't you a little interested in men?"

"Apparently not as much as you," Nami retorted.

He laughed and then stubbed out his cigarette. "What else do you expect from guys? We're all thinking the same thing."

"And what's that?"

"Sex," he said bluntly.

Nami's cheeks warmed up.

"I think about sex ninety-eight percent of the time," Sanji continued with a straight face.

She shook her head in disbelief. "Incredible. And what do you think about the other two percent?"

"Food," he answered and then added, "sometimes sport."

That's right, sex and food. The driving forces of life. Nami didn't know if she should laugh or scold at him. Of course he was exaggerating, but she really wanted to switch the conversation to something less embarrassing. Thankfully no one was around to eavesdrop on what they were talking about.

"So how do you feel about blonds?" Sanji asked suddenly.

Caught off guard, Nami couldn't help but shift her eyes from her snack to his hair. "I have nothing against blonds," she replied slowly, staying composed.

"That blond guy has been eyeing you for awhile. I think he likes you."

"Who?" Nami followed his gaze to a tall, richly dressed man. Long hair and a furry face, he was simply beastly. His face brightened and blushed when he saw her looking at him. She turned back stunned and scared. "You're kidding me. Please tell me you're kidding me," Nami whispered.

"He isn't so bad," Sanji countered, examining him again. "If you don't mind really hairy men."

Sanji rose to his feet. Nami became alarmed and her hand darted out to snatch a hold of his coat sleeve. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to grab something to eat. You want me to get you something?"

"Don't leave me alone. I'm coming with you," Nami hissed. She made the motions to gather up her shopping bags.

"Don't be silly. I'll be back soon. We'll lose the table if we both leave."

"What if that man comes here? What am I suppose to do," Nami said, trying not to sound desperate.

Sanji frowned. "I doubt it. But if he is brave enough to try, tell him you're with me. How hard is that?"

Nami wanted to object and suggest they leave, but Sanji was already moving towards the food stands. Feeling slightly paranoid, she carefully peeked over her shoulder to see if the beast man was still watching her and was relieved to see he had disappeared. She felt safe until she noticed he had moved to a different spot.

Where was Sanji? He was taking too long. Nami made herself look busy by going through all her purchases, but tracked him from the corner of her eyes. He was still flustered, making goo-goo eyes at her. A few times, he seemed to vanish into thin air only to show up at a closer location and always sighing deeply. It was all disturbing.

Sanji finally came back with sticky tofu and oyster noodles. Nami got up, grappling with all their belongings. She had enough. It was time to go.

"Can't I eat this before we go?" he protested.

"Leave me alone like that again and I swear I'll kill you!"


	15. Worked Up

Roommates

It was only the middle of the week and Nami was begging for the weekend. This could not be happening to her. It was impossible. It was horrible. It was unspeakable. Was Sanji paying any attention to her?

"Are you listening to me?" Nami demanded. It was Wednesday and Sanji was at home, playing in the kitchen. He did that sometimes. On his off days, and if he was in the mood, he did a little experimental cooking. Nami was his personal guinea pig.

"Yes," Sanji said forcefully. He was busy working his stove. He had three pots of boiling concoctions going. They smelled strange to her.

"What did I say?" Nami challenged. She threw her pen and pad on the table. Too many annoying thoughts were buzzing around her head to get anything done.

Sanji sighed and swiveled his head to give her a flat look. "She wants a drawbridge added to her castle."

"Yes, a drawbridge! Can you believe that? She's crazy. Now she wants a drawbridge. Yesterday she wanted a moat."

"I know. How silly of her. She should really stick with a stone bridge. They are much more aesthetically pleasing and they go better with the moat."

Nami groaned at Sanji. His sarcasm wasn't lost on her. She sank in her chair, feeling dejected and exhausted. Not even a sympathetic ear from Sanji. He was too busy stirring and adjusting the flame on his stove to even notice her. "Why me?" she murmured.

It wasn't that Nami always complained about her job. Arlong Park was like any other company with its hierarchy of directors, managers, supervisors and grunts. Sometimes the workload was heavy. Sometimes managers were unreasonable. Sometimes supervisors were stupid, proposing dumb ideas that made they look like they don't have the slightest clue on what they're doing. Luckily, those things didn't happen that often.

Anyways, who didn't grumble about their work once in a while. Sanji shared his stories, ranting about his restaurant on more than one occasion. But there were days when Nami seriously entertained the idea about quitting and finding another line of work.

This was one of those days.

"Here. Taste this," Sanji interrupted. He offered her a spoonful of one of his strange concoction. It was a vivid purple color.

"What is it?" Nami eyed it cautiously. What made it that color?

"It's a soup."

"Really?"

"Just taste it."

Nami took a tentatively sip. It was surprisingly sweet and creamy. "It's good."

Sanji nodded and returned to his stove.

"You know that's not the worst of it," Nami continued. "Her fickle demands on her future castle is one thing. She gets these unexpected deliveries during the meetings. Flowers, candies, and gifts. She has to stop everything and gush over every one of them. She's driving me batty."

"Indeed."

"It's not like I get any help from anyone else at work. They all too busy falling off their feet, swooning over her."

"That's terrible," Sanji said distractedly. He was searching the drawers, creating a racket with the utensils.

Nami spoke a little louder over the noise. "It's not fair. Why did she have to pick Arlong Park to build her castle? Why does she even need a castle built here?" Her head plopped down on the table.

Sanji shot her a surprised look. "Well, isn't it obvious? She was looking for you."

Nami grimaced. She refused to acknowledge the possibility. It was all a coincidence, she told herself. An unlucky chance that they meet again. Not that they were formally introduced the first time. No words were ever exchanged between them and she took an instant disliking to Nami. There was no credible reason for her to seek her out. But then why did she hire Arlong Park, an insignificant company, when there were other bigger, older companies? What in the world would the Empress of Amazon Lily want with her?

She shook her head. "I would think she would want nothing to do with me."

Still concentrating on his stove, Sanji spoke over his shoulder, "Nami, look carefully at your situation. Hancock is your client now. She gets to boss you around, showing off her power and influence. She's flaunting her wealth and prestige at you every chance she gets. How can you not see the bigger picture here?"

"Why would she waste her time doing that?"

He shrugged. "She's insecure, jealous or insane? Take your pick."

Insane, Nami could believe very well. She always thought there was something mentally off about that woman. For whatever reason, she was zealously obsessed with Luffy. But insecure and jealous? That made little sense to her. Hancock may be the empress of some tiny island she never heard of before, but she still had power, beauty and wealth. "Insecure because of me? And why would she be jealous of me?"

"Maybe because Luffy spoke so highly of you," he said so matter-of-factly.

"He did? You were guys were talking about me?" Nami asked, astonished.

"Not all the time. We were exchanging notes." Sanji smirked. "He said he didn't know anybody who could hit as hard as you."

"That's wonderful." Now Nami was beginning to see how this came about. A few innocent remarks from bigmouth Luffy, resulting in a misunderstanding and an enraged empress. "Please tell me you know of a way of getting rid of her."

Sanji stopped, tapping his chin. "You can always be a big girl and put up with her until she gets bored with you."

Nami frowned. Another two week of Hancock? She would not survive. She didn't think the office would survive either. Production seemed to come to a grinding halt with her and her female entourage around. "That's dumb. Got another plan?"

Sanji was going through his spice cabinet, looking for something. After a while with no reply, Nami thought he didn't hear her and was going to repeat herself when he turned to her. His face brightened. "I got it. A brilliant idea," he said suddenly.

"What?" Nami asked excitedly. This had to be good.

"Robin knows a lot of people. I bet she can find you a hit-man. A good one. The police will never trace it back to you."

Nami gave him an exasperated look, but Sanji's head was now buried in the fridge so he missed it.

The next morning was not the usual routine. Nami overslept when she saw her clock. No jogging today. She had been trying to start up her morning jogs, only succeeding sporadically. After missing more than a week due to work and Vivi's wedding, it was hard getting back to her daily exercise.

Getting up, she hurriedly changed clothes and got ready. In the kitchen, she saw a loaf of bread, hidden underneath a tablecloth. The bread was neatly sliced and two-toned, a purple swirl in the interior. Nami was beginning to see a pattern in this week's cooking experiment.

Purple or not, the bread was left on the kitchen table, which meant it was communal property. She snagged a couple of slices and left for work.

What would Empress Hancock demand today? A tower? A curtain wall? Turrets?

The atmosphere of the office was edgy. Not like the nerve-shaking, "Oh my god! Arlong is coming," kind of edgy. It was more like the jittery, "How do I look? I hope she like these," kind of edgy.

Nezumi went out of his way to dress up and combed his mustache. Kuroobi, who was very strict and serious, was lost and perturbed about the stupidest thing. He couldn't decide on where to place a vase full of flowers. Feng Shui would have it placed east because of the color red, but he wanted closer to head of table where Hancock usually sat. Hachi seemed more anxious over a client than he should have been. And forget Chew, he was a babbling idiot.

It was no use berating them on their lack of professionalism. Nami already tried. It was like in one ear and out the other. She didn't exist as far they were concerned, which made the whole thing more aggravating than it already was. Hancock certainly had them eating out of her hand.

Nami had just switched on her computer when the phone rang. She answered it. It was security calling up to tell her she had visitors. Already here? She told him to send them up.

Let the fun begin.

It turned out to be only two of Hancock's minions. They were dressed in same style of clothing they wore everyday. Sometimes the color or pattern differ, but they always wore a revealing top with a long flowing cape.

Nezumi was the first to greet them, bouncing up and down like a kid in a toy shop. "How wonderful to have you here again. When is Empress Hancock arriving?"

Marguerite and Kikyo did not to answer him. In fact, they made it their business to ignore all the men. Instead they strode over to where Nami sat. One of them knocked Nezumi off his feet as they pushed passed him.

"Empress Hancock will be arriving in an hour. We are here to make sure everything is in order for Empress Hancock," the dark-haired woman stated in a stern voice.

"Uh, okay," Nami said slowly. They always addressed her and not Hachi even though he was her supervisor. "I'll notify my people about that. Do want some coffee or tea prepared?"

"That will not be necessary. We will be attending to all her needs this time," Marguerite answered politely. They separated to inspect the rest of the office. Nami let them go, hoping nothing bad will happen. They were incredibly strong and volatile.

Before Nami couldn't tell them apart. She thought all of Hancock's entourage looked the same. Seriously, it was not like she wanted to stare at them. These women barely wore anything and they weren't in the slight bit embarrassed about it either. But after a few days with them, Nami was able to tell them apart. They were all distinctly different. Different hair, build and temperament.

Kikyo, who was older of the two, was the harshest and toughest out of the group. Nami never seen her smile once and concluded her to be the leader because of her commanding presence. Marguerite, a young woman with short, unruly blonde hair, was much friendlier compare to Kikyo. She was also immensely curious, asking all sorts of questions about equipment in the office and sometimes about Nami's male coworkers, but only when Kikyo wasn't in earshot of the conversation.

Nami gathered all her material and they all met in the conference room without much fanfare. Well, there was this one little embarrassing incident, when Take, the mailboy, intercepted Hancock with a bouquet of flower in his arms. Nami thought everything was all right when she calmly accepted his bouquet with a thin smile. But then her eye went bulging mad and her teeth bared like an angry lion. Without any warning, the empress threw the flowers down and repeatedly stomped on them with her foot before kicking them across the room. Nami was stunned and speechless. Scary! Hachi had to nudge her to get her moving towards the conference room.

Poor Take. He looked crushed. No one with a bit of brain dared to approach Empress Hancock after that.

To Nami's annoyance, Nezumi wormed his way into the meeting, sitting next to her. What was he suppose to do? Ogle at Hancock in her ravishing red sarong and scanty blouse? Of course, there was no way he could sit close to her. A total of six woman, who sat determinedly around her, made sure of that.

"Everyone comfortable?" Hachi asked, casting a worrisome glance over them. Somehow they managed to find suitable chairs for them all. The previous days some of Hancock's women were left standing, which left an uncomfortable feeling because a few of them chose to stand right behind them, watching over them.

"Oh, could we get those sweet round bread again?" Aphelandra piped up. She was an exceedingly tall woman with a childlike demeanor. Nami found her innocent request to be a very calming icebreaker.

"Aphelandra!" Kikyo scolded. She folded her arms across her chest. "We do not take anything from foreigners."

"I'm sorry." Aphelandra hung her head low, looking very sad.

"We can get the donuts. It's no trouble," Nami spoke. She looked over to Nezumi, expecting some kind of movement, but he was too busy with his iPhone. Useless. She got up and managed to flag down Chew and asked him to bring in the snacks.

After quick bite with the munchies, everyone was lively and full of smiles except for Kikyo and Hancock. Nami noted neither one touched the donuts. Even dumb Nezumi helped himself to more than one.

"I decided I do not want a drawbridge," Empress Hancock proclaimed. She sat straight and perfectly composed, stroking her pet snake. A boa constrictor or a python of some kind. It was gigantic.

Nami felt a load lift off her shoulders. She wanted to recommend something simpler to work on first like a garden or a courtyard.

"I believe a barrack would be more useful to have. As well as a dungeon," Hancock continued.

"What marvelous ideas! I was about to suggest the very same things," Nezumi raved. No one paid him any attention.

A dungeon? Now Nami needed to incorporate a dungeon into her castle. Her shoulders sagged. She rather deal with the drawbridge, especially since she already spent the night researching them. "So would you prefer a basement dungeon or a tower dungeon?"

Nami was jotting down her lengthy response, when Kuroobi appeared. "There's a delivery," he said simply.

And so it begins, Nami thought drily, twirling her pen.

It was a lovely bouquet of red roses. Very expensive-looking. Hancock cradled the flowers in her arms, read the note that came with it, and then started blushing like a high school girl. No chance of a field goal kick with these flowers.

The next delivery arrived 15 minutes later. Another bouquet of flowers. White carnations and pink roses. More displays of a happy Hancock. Hancock suddenly changed her mind about the drawbridge and wanted it again. A delivery of colorful balloons with a stuffed toy teddy bear followed. Hancock wanted her castle built in the middle of lake. Nami told her a drawbridge wouldn't work. A delivery of fine, gourmet chocolate came next. Hancock took a nibble out of one of them and then told Nami to find a way to make a drawbridge work. This went on for some time.

Nami was literally gnashing her teeth. When was lunch? She needed a break soon. Hachi was absolutely no help. He had ran off to get more donuts and hadn't been seen since. Unexpectedly, Piscaro popped his head in the conference room. "There a delivery of flowers." He wandered in carrying a bundle of giant sunflowers. Apparently, Kuroobi went on his lunch break.

"For me?" Hancock said breathlessly, her hand clutching her huge cleavage. Her face flushed yet again. "He really shouldn't have." She took the flowers from him and then proceeded to read the card.

Suddenly the flush vanished from her face and her disposition became quiet and foreboding. "These are for you," Hancock spoke in a frosty manner, shooting Nami a dark look.

"Huh? What?" All seven pairs of eyes fell squarely on her. The room became very quiet and scary.

"These flowers are for you," she repeated.

Nami shrank in her seat, pointing at herself. "For me? There has to be a mistake."

Nezumi peered up from his iPhone and sniggered at her. "Yeah, who would send Nami flowers?"

The empress stiffly handed the sunflowers off to Sweet Pea, who quickly passed them down the table to her.

Feeling very nervous and confused, Nami took the flowers from the large, muscular woman. She could feel Nezumi trying to steal a look over her shoulder as she flipped open the card. Her eyes widened in alarm.

There it was, the offending message, written in a cursive handwriting she did not recognize. _To my dearest Nami Swan, I had a fabulous time. I hope to see you soon, my love. Your eternal and devoted, Mr. Prince._

Nami slapped closed the card, her mind running at a hundred miles-per-hour.

Who the hell was Mr. Prince?


	16. Battle of the Flowers

Roommates

They were still staring at her when Nami looked up. None of them were pleased, most of all Empress Hancock. Even her snake seemed pissed. Slowly Hancock recrossed her long legs, eyeing her like the prey and she the predator. Nami could tell something was going through her head. Nothing good.

"Excuse me. Let me...let me take care of these," Nami mumbled. She snatched sunflowers, sprinted to her cubicle and dropped them on her desk. Out of sight, out of mind. Better to keep them away from Hancock until she figured what was going on.

Before Nami returned to the conference room, she took a glimpse through the crack of the door, wondering if things had settled down. Her hand muffled a cry of horror. Nezumi was knocked out cold, lying sprawled on the floor, while around him lay shattered pieces of the vase that Kuroobi had recently put out. Rindo and Daisy were hovering over his lifeless body and glaring at him.

They killed him!

Nami was about to run off to call the cops when Cosmos stepped on him and Nezumi let out a moan of pain. He was still alive. Nami was relieved - sort of. Then she realized it must have really hurt because Cosmos was a really enormous woman.

Out numbered seven to one, the odds were hopelessly against her. It was at that point, Nami wanted to bolt out of there and run home. She could always find another job. She just needed to update her resume, send out cover letters, and dig out her old interviewing suit.

Suddenly Nami slapped her cheek and got a hold of herself. What was she thinking? It dawned on her that the worst Empress Hancock could do to her was to terminate Arlong Park's employment. No big loss. Nami steadied her nerves, telling herself Bellemere would never back down from someone like Empress Hancock and neither should she. She straightened her jacket, gripped door knob and waltzed back in, feeling she could take on the world.

"Sorry for the interruption." Gingerly, Nami walked over Nezumi's unconscious body and took her seat at the table. He could lie there as long as he wanted.

"We expect that will not happen again," Kikyo stated. Her arms folded across her chest.

"No, it won't." Nami went over her notes to see where they left off when they were interrupted.

It was Piscaro again. "Flowers," he said nervously. He turned bug-eyed when he saw Nezumi lying on the floor.

All the women stared closely at the flowers. A lovely arrangement of white hydrangea and yellow roses, Marguerite retrieved them from him and then delivered them to Hancock. Hancock, who was reserved and calm, handled them with great care. It seemed everyone was on pins and needles as she read the card. Suddenly Hancock was smiling and blushing like a little girl again.

All was well. Like Nezumi said, who would send Nami flowers? The sunflowers she received were obviously a little joke from someone. Naturally, Nami had her suspicions, which she would confirm when she got home. She only needed to survive the day. Little did she know the harrowing event that was about to unfold.

The next batch of flowers that Hancock received left her livid. They were long stalks of orange and yellow gladiolus. Very pretty and colorful, so Nami took no notice of them when they arrived. Instead her attention was focused solely on her notes and the clock. It was almost time for a lunch break.

"They are for you," Hancock said, almost snarling.

Nami's head snapped up in alarm. Unceremoniously the gladiolus were dropped in front of her with the half-open card lying next to them. With great trepidation, Nami snatched it up and read the contents. The words made no sense at all. _Nami, I was about to cut down 8000 flowers with only my bare teeth, but I came down with the I'm-allergic-to-flowers-with-petals disease. Hope you like these instead. Mr. Prince._

A whisper went through the group and Nami was mortified. Not again. Why was this happening? Conscious of all the scrutiny she was receiving, Nami excused herself and darted to her cubicle, where she tossed the gladiolus next to the sunflowers. Hurrying back, she stopped short when she saw a parade of people lined up outside the conference room. Hachi, Kuroobi, and Chew, to name a few, were carrying in flowers and gifts.

"Nami," Hachi pleaded, looking lost and scared. His face was half-buried behind lilies and roses. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." Nami squeezed through them and found the situation even worse than before. On the table between her and Hancock was a pile of flowers and gifts with still more being brought in by Hancock's entourage and Nami's coworkers. How did this happened? She was only gone a few minutes.

Nami broke into a tense laughter. "Well, look at all this. Isn't this the darnest thing?"

Hancock was not smiling.

Separating which flower and gift belonged to who was a nightmare. Sometimes it was easy for Nami to spot Hancock's. Anything that looked remotely expensive belonged to the empress. Large bouquets of roses, gourmet food and jewelries went her way. The ones that weren't so glamorous were a little sketchy. They could have gone to either one of them. The only way to tell was to read the card.

Regrettably Empress Hancock was fiercely private and did not allow anyone to read them. Even her own people. So she went through each and every one of them herself, which was very stressful for Nami. Hancock's emotions yo-yoed back and fore from pure adoration to utter hate.

"I think that one is mine," Nami spoke up. It was an odd arrangement of flowers in shape of an upside down U. It looked like something they gave away to the winner of a horse race. Nami genuinely wanted to spare Empress Hancock the look, but she ignored her and read the card anyway.

A tight frown marred that perfect face of hers. "You are correct."

The horseshoe flower decoration were pushed to her side of the table. Nami took a peek at the card, just for the sake of curiosity. She smiled little. Not as bad as the other messages, but asking to see her panties? Really? That ending ruined what could have been a nice romantic poem. Nami shook her head. Men and their female underwear fetishes. Evidently, Mr. Prince was getting silly and running out of things to write.

Hancock continued her inspection with her pile getting bigger while Nami's remained relatively small. Not that it bothered her. The whole thing was getting retarded as far as she was concerned. Flowers weren't cheap. A sizable fortune had to been blown on them and the gifts. What a waste of money.

While Hancock was busy gushing over another bouquet, Nami spotted a tiny bundle of red tulips, peeking out from the pile. Wanting to speed the process along, she leaned over, picked them up and read the card. Aphelandra gasped and said something, which Nami couldn't make out.

To Nami's surprise, the tulips weren't for her. Hancock's name was written repeatedly over and over for no apparent reason. The card was exceedingly sappy and full of sentimental cliché. It wasn't until she got to end, did Nami choke from almost laughing out loud. She coughed a few times to cover up her little noise. Hopefully no one noticed.

Luffy sent these flowers? Impossible. It had to be a mistake. He couldn't have written the card. The handwriting was too neat and legible. And Luffy romantic? That wasn't right either. The most romantic gesture from him was chalky Valentine candies he had sent to her on her birthday. He went through the trouble to lick off the messages on those heart-shaped candies.

Nami peered up and caught Aphelandra watching her. Strangely enough, she was fidgety and red. Did she know something? Nami looked down at the card, and then at the pile of flowers and gifts. Just how many suitors did Empress Hancock have? And they all sent her flowers at the same time? Perhaps they were vying for her affection.

Thinking back to poor Take, who had his heart ripped out and kicked back to him, Hancock wasn't pleased by his attention. She went ballistic with his flowers. With these flowers, Hancock was in seventh heaven. Did she think Luffy sent them? Nami remembered Hancock's feelings for Luffy, how they bordered on insanity. But there was no way Luffy could have sent them all. It wasn't his style and he certainly couldn't afford to be excessive. Someone else was sending them and pretending they were from Luffy. But why?

Finding a good moment to jump in, Nami said smoothly, "I'm sorry. This is yours." Aphelandra got up and hurriedly retrieved the tulips from her and brought them to Hancock. A worrisome glance passed between her and Marguerite.

Hancock was distraught. "You read my card!"

"Maybe just the beginning," Nami said meekly, wondering what the problem was. The message wasn't embarrassing or dirty.

With the back of her hand pressed against her forehead, Hancock swooned. She leaned back in her chair, her giant bosoms heaving. "Oh, Luffy. Forgive me, darling. I let your beloved words be desecrated by vile eyes."

Immediately, everyone leapt to Hancock's aid. Daisy and Cosmos fanned her with their hands while Rindo ran off to fetch her something to drink. Kikyo barked orders bring her majesty something warm to wear. They all tossed Nami dark looks.

Geez. All she did was read her card.

It took a while before Hancock was back to herself. Apparently, the shock was too much for her delicate condition. With only a few more things left, Hancock had enough energy to sort them out. Her group applauded her brave effort.

The last thing left was a basket of baked goods. Hancock read the note and then peered at Nami, her eyebrow arching menacingly. "For you," she said firmly, but not so angrily as before.

Nami sighed and graciously accepted the basket. Hopefully for the last time. She wondered briefly if she should even bother to look at the note. It was probably as silly as ones before, but why resist? she thought. Slowly, she read the words. _I am just a lowly krill, flowing adrift in the sea of solitude. A wretched crustacean, I await to be engulf by your voracious appetite. In the meantime, here is a snack. Sweets for my sweets. Mr. Prince._

Slack-jawed, Nami gripped the note like she wanted to strangle it. Was she suppose to be some kind of a whale? Her eyes turned into little slits when she glanced down at the basket of purple cookies. Purple?! Where had she seen that color before?

Not at all amused, the final piece fell into place. A certain dumb blond was indeed behind all this and the prank had gotten way out of hand. What was Sanji thinking? Nami wanted Hancock to go away, not create a crisis.

Nami took a deep breath, trying to think of something to say. Anything to smooth things out, but nothing came to mind. An awkward silence overcame them all. While Nami was racking her brain for any kind of an excuse, a steady melodious sound permeated into the conference room.

"What's that?" Cosmos asked. She tilted her head and then cupped her ears with her hands, trying to determine the source of the music.

"Maybe it's a radio, an electronic box that emits noises," Marguerite suggested. She became curious and started looking around the room.

Everyone got up and moved about the room to investigate. Only Hancock stayed put. She kept a watchful eye on Nami as if she was expecting a trap. Nami, who was just as puzzled, wanted to run outside and phone Sanji. But she thought it would look bad if she snuck off again for a third time. Better to wait for an appropriate time for that. Plus she was planning to give Sanji such an earful, it was better she did it in private.

The music grew louder until Nami recognized it as someone playing the violin. There were shouts of alarm as the door burst open. All the women reacted quickly and placed themselves in front of Hancock, expecting an assault. A tall thin man with curly black hair waltzed in, wearing a dapper set of old clothes. He was unconcerned with them and continued happily to strum his violin.

Shocked, Nami could only stare at her next door neighbor. What was his name again? Gill? River? Bourn? Brook! More importantly, what was he doing here? He sang a silly song about sake, friendship, and love, which wasn't so bad had the situation not been as tense as it was.

When Brook finished, he bowed and waved his hands high in the air. Nami clapped slowly, but stopped when she drew Hancock's ire.

"Thank you everyone! This next song is dedicated to a special lady." Brook bowed again and winked at Nami. Setting his violin back under his chin, he started again. "A feeling in the heart. A friendship that grows stronger over time. An affection that deepens into young love. Let's celebrate the power of the heart!"

Coming from Brook who knew how to play the violin, the whole piece was very quaint and endearing. It reminded Nami of the simpler days, the days when things weren't driven by money or by technology. And while she had this warm bubbly feeling for Brook, the song progressed to a point where it was clear it was not a solo act. Regrettably not everyone was as talented as Brook.

A voice screeched, shattering her mood. Bon Kurei leapt into the conference room wearing a pink unitard and blue tutu. A feather boa was wrapped around his neck and swans taped to his back. He performed a long pirouette that left Nami dizzy.

Robin strolled after him wearing a sequined evening gown that could have outshine a disco ball. In her arms, she carried long stems of violet larkspur flowers. Daintily Robin gripped Bon Kurei's fingers and they walked side by side as they circled the meeting room table. Bon Kurei waved and smiled, blowing kisses to everyone like he was in a beauty pageant.

After they completed their tour, Robin handed her flowers to Nami. They laid flat on her lap.

Nami was speechless. She couldn't tear her eyes off of them. What were they doing? They weren't planning to do a musical right here in her office, were they? She laughed weakly. This was not happening to her. Please someone pinch her.

A man in brown uniform appeared. He showed Nami the clipboard and told her to sign. She did as she was told, not realizing until he walk out that the delivery man was Usopp. Was he here too?

Usopp returned minutes later, wheeling in a large box with a red bow on top. Carefully he set the box in front of her and took off with the dolly cart before Nami could question him. He was grinning like a fiend, a look Nami did not like.

There was something strange in the box. Something to be wary of.

Like a good game show hostess, Robin waved her hands at it, stepped back and presented it to her. What could be hidden in a box that large? Nami swallowed a gulp out of fear. They expected her to open it?

Clueless and nervous, Nami grabbed the bow on the lid when Bon Kurei shouted, "Un, deux, trois!" The sides of the box burst out, scaring the bejesus out of Nami. She almost got up screaming.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Nami peeked between her fingers that was covering her face.

It was surreal. Sanji, aka Mr. Prince, knelt with one knee on the floor. He was dressed in a tuxedo with tails, his hands in white gloves, proffering a single rose to her. His smile was laden with tension that only Nami could see because of her close proximity. And yet somehow he managed to gaze at her with adoring eyes. Suddenly Nami felt self-conscious and uncomfortable. She couldn't meet eye to eye with him and instead stared at his bow tie.

"Love is a wondrous thing." It sounded like something from a Hallmark commercial. "Please say yes," Sanji said lovingly, squeezing her hand.

Her mouth gaping wide open, Nami was confused out of her mind. Please say yes to what?

Hancock had enough and stood up, a twinge of anger on her face. She wrapped her snake around her shoulders and marched off. The rest of the her minions quickly gathered up her belongings and followed after her. Hancock stopped long enough to give Nami an odd look before departing.

Nami sighed. That went well.

When they were all gone, Sanji dropped her hand and dug in his coat pocket for something. "Why did I have to do that?" He slunk off to the nearest chair and sat down.

"Sanji!" Robin reprimanded and tilted her head at the lying figure on the floor. Nezumi was still unconscious. Taking their cue, they vacated to another part of the floor, away from prying eyes and ears.

They found an empty room and snuck in. After checking to see if anyone had followed them, Usopp shut the door close and laughed. "Did you see the look on that lady's face? She was mad!"

Nami could only gawk at Sanji.

"It was not my idea," Sanji said sounding frustrated. He stuck in a cigarette in his mouth and then turned to look at Robin who was being air kissed on each cheek by Bon Kurei.

"Look at you. I'm so jealous!" Bon Kurei said happily. He was dancing around Robin, admiring her outfit. "You have to loan me that dress."

Robin smiled warmly.

"Why?" Nami asked, shaking her head at them. "Why did you...?"

"We heard from Sanji you were having a miserable time at work," Robin said.

"So you sent flowers, got all dressed up, sang and dance in front my client, just to cheer me up?"

Robin nodded. "And to remove your little problem. In a way, we killed two birds with one stone."

"I brought the flowers," Usopp added in. "Don't damage them! I've got to return them to Kashi. They're on loan."

Amazing. Simply incredible. They were all crazy.

"Isn't it a nice feeling when your friends visit you," Brook said dreamily as he placed his violin back in his case. "And a little music to liven the soul."

Nami watched them and wondered. What a strange group of people they were. Robin was complimenting Brook on his performance. He blushed and returned the praise and then asked to see her panty. Robin laughed and told him maybe later. Bon Kurei was harassing Sanji, telling him he would look so much cuter in a pink dress than a suit. Sanji threatened to kick his ass to kingdom come. Then Sanji started harassing Usopp for a little kiss if he wanted Kashi's flowers back. Usopp went crying for help from Nami. She felt generous and got the flowers back for him. No charge.

Nami changed her mind and took it all back. They weren't crazy or strange. They were the nicest people she had ever met.

With the office devoid of her fellow coworkers, Nami gathered the rest of the flowers from her desk. She stacked the sunflowers and gladiolus into Usopp's arms. "I think that's all of them," she said.

"You'll be all right?" Usopp asked, concerned. "You won't get into any trouble because of us."

"Nah. I can handle them."

"That's good!" Usopp sounded relieved.

"Oh wait. There's a flower you missed." Nami scooped up the single rose from her chair. It was the same delicate pink rose Sanji was holding earlier. How it ended up on her chair, she didn't know.

Usopp shook his head. "That's not Kashi's. Sanji bought that one."

"He did?"

"I don't why he did. We had plenty of flowers." Usopp hefted the horseshoe flowers over his shoulder. He was struggling with all the flowers.

"Oh." Nami paused to sniff at it. It smelled sweet. "I should give it back to him then."

"Why bother. Just keep it."


	17. His Beard

Roommates

The door to his room was left wide open. At first Nami assumed Sanji had simply forgotten to close it before he left for work. She made nothing of it and passed his room without a second glance. She dropped his mail on the side table and headed to the kitchen for a quick snack before dinner. Suddenly there was a dull thud, like something heavy landing on the floor. Nami halted in her tracks and listened.

No one should be home at this time except for her.

Alarmed, she slowly backtracked her steps. There were muffled noises and a distinct smell of burnt cigarette wafting in the air. Someone was in Sanji's room.

Nami rarely seen his room and only from a distance so she didn't know what to expect. Cautiously she poked in her head through the doorway and peeked inside.

She should have known his room matched the rest of his apartment. It was tastefully furnished with expensive old furniture. A chocolate brown drawer chest by the door, a matching dresser with a huge mirror on the opposite side and a nightstand on each side of a large sleigh bed. His room was so much larger compared to hers. It had enough space for a silly loveseat. Nami scoffed at the unfairness of it.

On the floor next to the bed, she spotted an ashtray filled with burnt-out butts and a box filled with magazines, video tapes, and rolled-up posters. A pair of bare hairy legs stuck out from underneath the bed. Nami didn't know what to make of it. Sanji should be at work at his restaurant. What was he doing under his bed?

"Sanji?" she asked. "Is that you?" A stupid question, Nami knew, but better to feign complete ignorance. After all, she was standing in his room uninvited.

There was a bang and curse of pain. Soon Sanji was squirming his way out. From the way he sounded, it wasn't going to be good. He emerged from his bed, his blond hair disheveled and a crooked cigarette dangling dangerously from his lips. He wasn't wearing his usual stylish clothes, but was dressed in baggy shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt. The man looked positively stricken, like he lost his best friend.

Sanji didn't say anything to her. Instead, he gave her frantic look, shook his head and dove into his closet. She had never seen him so nervous before. He tossed out all kinds of junk: shoes, boxes, letters, photo albums, and other men things Nami couldn't identify.

"What's going on? Did someone die?" Nami was only kidding about the last part.

Suddenly Sanji stopped his rummaging and stuck his head out from the closet. "Worse," he answered in an oppressed voice. "The shitty geezer is coming." Then he returned to his rummaging, making enough racket to wake the dead.

Ah yes, it made perfect sense to her now. The shitty geezer was coming. "Who's the shitty geezer?"

Before Nami could get her answer, there was a buzz from the intercom. Someone was paging from downstairs.

"Get that, will you. It should be Robin," Sanji said.

Robin? Why would she be here? Nami exited his room to answer the intercom. Sure enough, it was Robin. She buzzed her in, left the front door of the apartment open for her and wandered back into Sanji's room. Nami still wanted to know what was going on.

Sanji had packed away many old letters and photo albums into another box and was cleaning out his dresser drawers. Tubes, jars, and bottles of various lotions and creams went flying into a brown paper bag. And not all of them were for skin care or cosmetic purposes to Nami's embarrassment. She thought it wiser to shift her attention to someplace less personal. The box by the bed seemed safe until she realized it contained magazines of naked men and gay porn tapes.

"They were gifts!" Sanji explained when he caught her looking at his things.

Her brain went numb. She had nothing to say to that.

They stood in silence for a few seconds until Robin came sauntering in. Decked out in a tiny suede outfit with fringe hem and over-the-knee boots, she greeted them by grinning and pushing up the brim of her cowboy hat with her index finger. The getup made her looked like a rodeo girl. A very sexy rodeo girl. It was amazing the number of different outfits Robin owned. For someone who was once a man, she had no trouble finding something sultry and feminine to wear for whatever the occasion. Sometimes Nami wished she had half of her confidence to wear something that bold, but then again it didn't matter if she did because she wouldn't look half as good as her.

Robin inspected Sanji's room and settled on his bed, crossing her long legs. "You called," she said teasingly.

"About time you got here. This is all your fault!" Sanji hissed, shaking an angry finger at her.

Robin cocked her head and then rested her chin on her fist. She watched him intently as he paced back and forward in his room, clearly agitated. "Pray tell, what is the matter?"

"I can't believe this is happening to me," Sanji muttered, his hand raking his hair. He stopped his pacing long enough to bend down and stub out his cigarette in the ashtray. "The shitty geezer is coming here."

"Your father?" Robin asked, mildly surprised.

"He never visits me. Now he's flying over here to see me!" Sanji threw his hands in the air and started pacing again.

His father? What a strange turn of events, Nami thought. Though she didn't understand why Sanji was incredibly stressed over his father visiting. She knew her own parent, at times, could be difficult and sometimes frustrating to be around, but the way Sanji was behaving it was like the end of world for him.

"Your father visiting you is a bad thing because..." she trailed, waiting for his answer.

Sanji flinched like Nami hit him. His face had gone very pale. He sighed, his answer coming out slowly. "It's complicated."

Abruptly Nami became aware and understood the true source of Sanji's distress. "Your father doesn't know, does he?" she said thoughtfully. Sanji gave her a momentary glance before he proceeded with his cleaning. She saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes. Even though his lifestyle was common knowledge to her and their friends, it might not be the same for other people.

"What is the reason for his sudden visit?" Robin interrupted, looking straight at Sanji. "Does he have fatherly business with you?"

Sanji groaned and his shoulders sagged noticeably. He darted over to the dresser and picked up his cell phone. "Maybe this has something to do with it," he replied sardonically. He tapped on a few buttons and then showed the screen to her. Robin took his cell phone and chuckled lightly.

Burning with curiosity, Nami moved towards the bed and peeked over Robin's shoulder. She froze instantly at what she saw, her expression becoming a mixture of open-mouthed shock and pure disbelief.

It was a picture of her and Sanji on that awful day at work. That wild and ridiculous day of flowers and gifts.

Nami was horrified. She grabbed the cell phone from Robin and stared stupidly at it. Why in the world was there a photo of that crazy day? There was Sanji, in his tux, kneeling in front of her and holding her hand. Anybody who didn't know better would have thought he was proposing to her. Oh god.

Who could have taken that photo? No one from Empress Hancock's group carried any type of electronic device, let alone a camera.

As her mind worked and absorbed the surprise, she spotted something peculiar about the picture. Despite it being cute and somewhat romantic, if she was a sentimental, sappy type of person, the viewpoint of the photo was strange, like it was taken from a low angle. Suddenly it became clear to her. Nezumi and his blasted iPhone. Nami growled murderously under her breath. That lying rat. He was playing opossum the whole time and snuck in a shot with his iPhone.

Nami wondered why so many people in the building was congratulating her. It took forever to straighten everything out with them. Here she thought she was dealing with plain, old office gossip. She didn't realize there was physical evidence floating around.

Sanji retrieved his cell phone and punched in some more keys. "Look at what someone texted me a few days ago. _Ha ha. I thought you were gay. Congratulations!_" His eyes narrowed at Robin. "I told you get to a hit-man, but no, you wanted to play that game."

So Nami wasn't the only casualty of that stunt. The wonders of technology, she had to love it. At any given moment, anybody and everybody could record whatever they wanted with a press of a button. Just click and forever it was immortalized into digital memory. Add to that the speed and distance that picture could travel. People you didn't know will know everything about you. Privacy went extinct like the dinosaurs and in its place emerged Facebook, Twitter, Youtube and other ubiquitous internet services.

Sanji fell on all fours, his head hung low. "What am I going to do? My life is over." The room took on a dreary and depressing feel. Nami thought the lights in the room somehow dimmed.

"Don't be such a drama queen. It's only your father. Tell him the truth."

"Tell him the proposal was fake and it was all my transgender friend's idea to make my roommate's employer jealous so she would fire her company?" Sanji laughed. "That's really believable. The old geezer is never going to buy that. I still don't believe it."

"No," Robin said patiently."You will tell him the truth."

Sanji stopped and became silent for a moment as he considered her words. "I can't," he said somberly.

"Why not? My mother took my news poorly at first, but she eventually accepted it."

"Your mother knows? How did she find out?" His eyes widened, his tone filled with astonishment and wonder.

Robin glared sharply at Sanji. "It would be rather hard for me to hide my secret from my mother."

"Oh." Sanji said it more to himself than to Robin. "Here, take these and hide them at your place." He dumped the paper bag on Robin's lap and kicked the two boxes over to her.

Robin frowned and peered at the boxes. "I think you're missing the most important thing to hide."

"What do you mean?"

Slowly Robin turned to look at Nami who was standing completely motionless. She only blinked at them, confused as to why they were both staring at her.

"Shit! That's right. You can't stay here, Nami. You have to move out."

Nami exclaimed, "What? Where am I going to live?"

"It's temporary, only for a little bit."

"How long?" Nami asked.

"Until the geezer leaves."

"How long is that?" Nami asked again.

Sanji shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe one, two, or three weeks. Stay with Robin."

Robin flashed him an angry look. "Absolutely not. I live in a studio. I do not have room for a second person, temporary or not."

"But why do I have to move out?" Nami protested.

Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose and concentrated. "I can explain the photo to the geezer. I'll tell him you died."

"I died?" Nami gaped at him. He lost his mind.

Robin raised her eyebrows slightly. "That's a little extreme don't you think, Sanji."

Sanji sighed heavily. "Okay, you're right. He'll probably want to attend the funeral. I know! I'll tell him you rejected me. Now that's believable. Women reject men all the time. I don't understand why they do." He stretched his arms, rubbing the back of his neck. He pulled out another cigarette, lit it and took a puff. "That picture doesn't prove there is an engagement. But you got to move out."

"That's not fair." Nami had too much stuff to pack up and leave on Sanji's whim. She was quite comfortable where she was right now. "There has to be another way."

"There is another way," Robin said matter-a-factly. She had a warm, but elusive smile on her face.

Shaking his head, Sanji was flustered. "Not that. You can't be suggesting that. Be serious."

"It's not like you never had a beard before."

"But this is completely different. A whole another level." He started pacing again.

A bit off-topic, Nami scratched her head, wondering why they were suddenly talking about Sanji's beard. She squinted her eyes to examine his chin hair. It didn't seem any thicker than when she first met him. Was he trying to grow a beard at all?

"What are your choices?" Robin asked. "You don't want to tell your father. Nami doesn't want to leave. What is left?"

Sanji stood still and sighed. "There is a slight problem with your suggestion. You know what the geezer is going to expect. What then? We fake that too?"

"An engagement doesn't always guarantee a wedding. Things happen. People change. Buggy and Alvida were engaged for years before they decided to break it off."

"They were engaged?"

Robin nodded.

"What happened? Was this before or after she lost all that weight?"

"What are you two talking about?" Nami blurted out. "You're making no sense. Who's Alvida?" She hated it when they leave her out of their conversation. They might as well be speaking in a foreign language.

Instead of stopping and explaining themselves, they continued on like she wasn't there. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and waved them off. She needed a break and stepped out for a drink. She was thirsty. Not that they noticed. They were too engrossed in their conversation.

By the time Nami returned with her orange juice, the room was eerily silent. Robin was smiling at her while Sanji was not. "What's going on?" She didn't like the feel of the atmosphere. She drank half of her orange juice in one gulp and waited for their response.

"Would you like to enlighten her or shall I?"

"It's your idea," Sanji mumbled. He snooped down for the ashtray and stubbed out his cigarette.

"All right." Robin opened her mouth and explained.

The absurdity of the idea left Nami mute and flabbergasted. She almost dropped her drink. "I have to be his beard?" His beard, a slang she never heard of before, but basically his pretend girlfriend, or this case his pretend fiancée. She threw a quick look at Sanji who was staring at his feet and smoking another cigarette. He was going through the pack like there was no tomorrow.

"If you feel this is inappropriate, it is perfectly understandable. It is an extreme request. No one is forcing you to do this so you may freely decline. But if you do, you will have to move out. Temporary or permanent, we are not certain. There is no way around it. I've discussed this with Sanji. He doesn't like the idea of evicting you, but to avoid any suspicion with his father..." Robin left it at that.

Given the serious nature of the situation, Nami felt oddly calm and relaxed, like she was taking a stroll in the park. How should she respond? What was the best course of action? The easiest thing to do would be to move out and find a new place to live. Let Sanji handle his father in his own way. But the thought of leaving felt wrong, almost sad to her. She liked living here. It was a nice place to be. The people she met and silly adventures she had, they came to be because she moved in with Sanji. She knew one day they would eventually part ways and head down their separate paths, but now wasn't the time.

Nami didn't really need to think over her answer. She knew exactly what she wanted. "Of course, I'll do it," she said with absolute certainty.

Sanji looked up, seeming almost relieved.

"I'll tell you this ahead of time though. No one is going to believe we're a couple."


	18. The Geezer Cometh

Roommates

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, that was how it felt like for Nami. She couldn't exactly voice her opinion out loud. Sanji didn't need to hear that. He was in poor shape already.

The airport terminal was light for this time of year. None of the holiday travelers were around. Nami had volunteered to accompany Sanji to pick up his father. She was a little nervous about meeting him, but she wasn't a nervous wreck like Sanji. The terminal didn't allow smoking and she could tell he was dying for a cigarette. His fingers touched his mouth more than a few times and he had to restrain himself from reaching into his coat pocket.

"His flight is late," Sanji stated.

"It's on time. The itinerary screen says so," Nami countered patiently.

"Maybe it's broken. Maybe it's not updating. Maybe it's wrong."

Nami shrugged. "Nothing you can do if it is."

"I'm going to ask the attendant."

Sanji headed off to the counter before she could stop him. It was his third trip. Nami heaved a sigh as she watched him converse with the attendant. Patient and calm, the attendant explained the computer monitor to Sanji again. He wasn't frustrated with Sanji, which was very professional of him. He must deal with a lot anxious people on a daily basis.

As the minutes ticked away, Nami slowly began to realize the gravity of the situation. She was pretending to be someone's fiancée. What the hell did she get herself into? It was an asinine idea. She didn't have much experience being a girlfriend and here she was trying to be Sanji's fiancée. It sounded like a movie plot for a comedy. She could imagine the different ways that it could go wrong.

Of course they prepared, rearranged the apartment, and worked out their stories. Luckily the furniture in her room stayed where they were. It was easy enough to make her room look like a study slash guest room. There were still her clothes and a few of her personal belongings. They needed a new place in Sanji's room and that was no small feat. Between the two of them, they had enough clothes to clothe a small village. After a lot of cramming and jamming, Nami fitted the more important stuff in his room. It took a lot of work and time, but they were more or less ready for his father's arrival.

They weren't charging into it blindly, but they might as well be.

Sanji slunk back from the counter, looking no better than he did before. His hands in his pants pockets, he slumped in front of the giant itinerary screen and waited.

"When was the last time you saw your father?" Nami asked, trying to divert Sanji's attention from the impending doom he was overreacting to.

Sanji lifted one of his hands from his pocket and absentmindedly pressed it against his mouth like he taking a smoke. "Five, six years."

"That long? You don't visit him during the holidays? You must get vacation."

"I've been busy and things kept happening," he said simply.

"I see," Nami murmured.

What things Sanji was referring to, he didn't elaborate and Nami didn't pressure him for any specifics. She was astounded at the lengthy duration. Bellimere would never let her miss any of the major holidays. She and her sister, Nojiko, were always prompt when they returned to their farm home for the holidays, or else they risked the wrath of their mother. Despite being all grownup and working, Nami still got treated like a little girl by Bellimere.

The status of the airplane suddenly changed from _In Flight_ to _Landed_. He was here. Sanji's father made it.

What should have been good news only worsened Sanji's mood. He was quiet and distracted, staring glumly at the exit terminal. On a strange impulse, Nami grabbed his hand and held it. It was cold, clammy, and callous, an uncomfortable feeling, but she didn't let go. Befuddled, Sanji glanced down at her gesture and then looked up at her. She gave him a reassuring smile. He didn't say anything, but she felt a tiny squeeze from his hand. For his sake, she didn't want to mess up.

A number of passengers carrying luggage strolled out. Nami had no idea what Zeff looked like. Sanji never bothered to show her any photo of the man, only stating that she would recognize him when she saw him. She examined all the old men that came out alone. There weren't that many of them. None of them stood out as a possible candidate. There was an elder gentleman with peppery-gray hair, wearing an old-fashion suit who she thought could be Zeff, but his face remained unchanged and impassive as he walked on by and he didn't draw Sanji's attention.

Then he appeared. Sanji was right. She couldn't have missed him, unless she was looking down at her shoes or something.

Tall, stout and blond, Zeff moved with an inconspicuous hobble to his gait. He had a beard and the longest mustache she had ever seem in her life. The passengers quickly made room for him as he pushed his way through. His clothes were unkempt and very ordinary and strangely didn't include a necktie. For some reason Nami expected an older, less gay version of Sanji.

Nami felt Sanji's grip tightened when he laid his eyes on Zeff. Then he released her hand as he went over to greet him. She watched, wondering if they were going to kiss, hug, shake hands or do whatever relatives did at airports. They did none of those things. Instead she saw them exchange a few words and then Sanji tried to take Zeff's luggage. That earned him a knock on the head as Zeff yakked his bag away from him. Testy and looking insulted, he marched over to where she was with Sanji chasing after him.

She guessed it was time for the unavoidable introduction.

"This is Nami. Nami, this is my father," Sanji said, while to trying to make another grab for his bag. Zeff dodged him again.

Nami blanked for a second. What was the proper etiquette in this situation? Was she suppose to give him a hug or shake his hand? He seemed a bit cranky so she went with a safe handshake and extended her hand. "So nice to finally meet you. Sanji has told me so much about you." An outright lie, but what was she suppose to say.

Zeff stared at her and didn't bother to take her hand. "Funny, he's told me nothing about you," he snapped suspiciously. "Let's go. I'm tired and I hate airports." He sped off towards the exit.

Speechless Nami turned to Sanji. He calmed her by placing his arm around her shoulder and guiding her into a walk. "He's an ass sometimes. Don't worry about it. Hurry. He's getting away."

They flagged a taxi and piled in. To Nami's horror, Sanji rode shotgun with the driver, leaving her to sit with Zeff. The taxi ride was quiet the majority of the time with only the driver trying to strike up a friendly conversation. He gave up when he saw no one was joining in.

Every now and then Zeff's braided mustache bumped into Nami and he mumbled terse apologies. Nami nodded and smiled. She shifted in her seat, trying to stay as close to the side door as possible and away from his mustache. It was very unnerving. A couple times, she thought about talking to him, asking him some questions. She was suppose to be his son's fiancée, right? Shouldn't they be getting to know each other? It didn't help any that Sanji was pretending they didn't exist. Why wasn't he sitting next to his father? They should be bonding or something.

Like the taxi driver, Nami gave up and drove the idea away. After their initial curt greeting, she didn't have the nerve to try. If Zeff wanted to know anything about her, he would have to initiate the conversation himself. Plus he didn't seem to be in a chatting mood so why force him into it. He kept arms crossed over his chest and glared at the back of Sanji's head the entire drive home.

Thankfully they reached their apartment building in one piece. No accident or driving citation.

Sanji paid the driver and Zeff went to claim his luggage from the truck. Nami stepped out and shut the taxi door. "You must be exhausted. You probably want to take a nap?"

Zeff grunted under his breath and nodded his head. Nami took it as a sign to lead the way.

The elevator ride to their floor was equally as quiet and unnerving as the taxi ride. Was this going to be the extent of Zeff's visit? They acted like complete strangers.

Nami gave Zeff a quick tour of the apartment, showing him the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom and where he was sleeping. After she saw that he was settled in her room, she ran off to find Sanji. He was in the kitchen pouring himself a mug of hot water. She smacked his shoulder.

"Why am I doing all the work? He's your father. You should be talking to him."

Sanji sighed, looking embarrassed. "Sorry. It's just a little weird. I haven't seen him in a long time. I don't know how to act."

"How about acting like a regular human being and say something to him," she hissed. "I'm friendlier with my stupid coworkers than you are with your own father, and I don't even like most of them."

Sanji was about to reply when he straightened and motioned his head towards the doorway. Zeff stepped into the kitchen, first examining the stove and then them. His eyes narrowed slightly.

Sensing another episode of awkward silence, Nami jumped in with her lifesaving excuse. "I have to go to work."

"Thanks. Have a nice time at work. Dear," Sanji bumbled. He hesitated for a moment and with the most unnaturally movement, he went up to her, bent down and kissed her cheek.

Nami's face heated and she quickly glanced over to Zeff who observed them critically. "If you need anything, call me?"

Work was the same old nonsense, a pile of paperwork, an empty coffeepot and a jammed copier. Concerned, she tried phoning Sanji in the middle of the day, but only got his voice mail. She left a short message. How was he doing? What was she suppose to do next? Meet them for dinner? She waited for a response, but none appeared. She assumed he was too busy and went on her daily business. She came home a little later than she normally did. Sanji was in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes. He seemed relaxed and in a better mood.

"Want something to eat? I can cook up something."

"I ate dinner with Hachi and Camie. Well, how did it go?"

A tiny smile appeared on his face. "He was mad at me, but it's better now. Yelled at me for a long time for not keeping in touch. He's sleeping now. Jet lag."

"Much better. See, it's not that hard. So...is there anything else?" Nami asked.

Sanji got the gist of what she wanted to know. "He plans to stay for a while and visit some old friends. A week or so. After that he'll fly back home. He can't stand the New World. He likes the old country better."

"That's good!" Nami brightened. The plan didn't seem as hopeless if Zeff was only staying for a week. They could go back to normal in no time. "Did he ask anything about me?"

"Not really." Sanji chuckled.

When it was time to turn in, there was that little matter they never did work out: the sleeping arrangement. There was two of them and only one bed.

Sanji scratched the side of his cheek and coughed uneasily. "You can take the loveseat. Grab a couple of pillows if you need them."

Nami scowled at him. She compared the sofa against the bed. It was smaller, harder and frankly, less comfortable. She lost her room to Sanji's father, she wasn't about to sleep on a stinking sofa. "I have a better idea. Why don't you take the loveseat and I'll take the bed."

"How about a game of rock-paper-scissors?" he asked hopefully.

"No," she told him flatly. She shoved a pillow into his hands and pointed at the sofa.

Sanji groaned, letting his head fall to the side in defeat.

Nami changed her clothes in his bathroom, which was filled with male toiletries. She had move his things around to fit in her stuff.

Back in his room, she found him scrunched on the sofa, his back facing her and his feet sticking out from under his blanket. Seeing him asleep, she quietly shut the door closed and tiptoed by him and got into bed. It was nice and fluffy. With the light switched off, she smuggled in to get comfortable when she heard Sanji's voice.

"Why do people have to grow old?" he lamented.

"Huh?" She was surprised to hear him in the dark.

"He looks old," Sanji continued.

"Oh." Nami thought about his comment for a while. "It's just the way it is. But I'm know he's happy to see you, even though it's hard to tell with him."

"Hmm..." he murmured, accepting her answer. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she repeated softly. She drifted off to sleep.


	19. The Great Plan

Roommates

Morning arrived, bright and sunny. Nami shifted uncomfortably in bed, weighed down by heavy blankets that almost smothered her. Her eyes popped open to stare at the ceiling. A ceiling she did not recognize. It took a few moments for her to register where she was and why she was here. She lifted her head to spy on her roommate and found him exactly where she last saw him the night before, on the sofa in the same awkward position. The blanket hid his head so that only a few strands of his floppy blond hair showed. He was still asleep going by his light steady breathing.

Her wristwatch revealed the time. It was still very early. She could lay in bed for another hour and try to go back to sleep or she could find something to do. Finally Nami made up her mind.

Quietly getting out of bed, Nami went through the drawers, located her sweats and headed to the bathroom to change. The sound of running water and the sight of a closed door left her a little surprised.

Why was he using the main bathroom? What was wrong with her bathroom?

Their guest, or precisely Sanji's father, was up earlier than her. It sounded like he was bathing. The faucet turned on at full-blast.

This put a damper in her plan of a morning run. Nami wondered if she should wait until Zeff was done. How long could that take? A few minutes, half an hour? She debated about darting into her own bathroom to change, but she would have to go through her room to reach it. The possibility of running into Zeff loomed threateningly over the horizon. Done with his bath, he would be wet and possibly unclothed. Do old men like to run around naked in their homes? Nami shuddered at the thought. She immediately squashed the idea of changing in her bathroom. Maybe she should forget about jogging and just get ready for work.

Feeling rather defeated, Nami lumbered back to the bedroom and shut the door. She noticed Sanji, against all odds, was still asleep, his back facing her. Even with the racket Zeff was making from the bathroom, he managed to snooze through it all. Nami surveyed his room and marveled again at the size of his room and nice furniture. Everything was arranged and organized so perfectly. Despite having her stuff thrown in his room, he managed to keep his space neat and tidy. Oh the fabulous lifestyle of a gay man. Most of the men she knew were messy and cluttered up their homes with junk.

Unexpectedly Nami discovered something promising in Sanji's room, a possible solution to her problem.

Nami went over to the closet, pulled the door open and stood behind it. She checked the angle and the coverage, making sure she couldn't see Sanji from where she was. It seemed to work like a decent privacy screen. She checked one more time on her roommate. Good, he was still sleeping. Nami hurriedly changed her clothes, struggling out of her pajama while being as quiet as possible. Dressed in her running clothes, she tied the laces on her shoes and was ready to go. All she needed was a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

Looking for her keys on the nightstand, she nearly jumped out of her skin when Sanji spoke from underneath his blanket. She could have strangled the man right there and then for scaring her.

"Where are you going?" Sanji asked wearily. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck.

Nami sighed. "I'm going out for a run. Your father is wake by the way."

"Oh," he responded, considering her. "Wait for me. I'll go with you."

"Huh?" Nami stopped tying her hair to look at him. She was about to ask Sanji what he meant, but he was up and out the room before she got the chance. He stepped outside only to return a few seconds later, puzzled.

"Why isn't the geezer using your bathroom?"

Nami waited patiently downstairs in front of the apartment building, doing some warm-up stretches. When Sanji arrived, she had to stifle a laugh at his comic appearance. He had on a black and maroon, long sleeve jersey with yellow trimmings, but it was really the trousers and the socks that made him look funny. The trousers were too short and the socks were pulled all the way up to his knees. He was dressed more for a soccer game than for regular jogging. His shoes were definitely not appropriate for running on asphalt and concrete.

"What are you wearing?" she jested, grinning a little. She couldn't keep her eyes off his silly socks.

Sanji glanced at his attire and shrugged his shoulders. "My old uniform," he replied.

She nodded with a giggle.

Nami set the route and pace at which they jogged. She usually ran alone so she wasn't use to having company. It was a little weird having Sanji along and she felt little self-conscious because of him. She didn't know how fast or how long they should be running. Sanji kept his mouth shut and followed after her. By the time they stopped for a break, she was exhausted and gasping for air. She ended up running harder and longer than what she was use to. As for Sanji, he wasn't even breathing hard.

"Are we done?" Sanji questioned nonchalantly.

Slumped over with her hands resting on her knees, Nami didn't bother to response and glared at him, but he was too busy looking at something in the trees. Couldn't he figure it out on his own or was he playing with her?

"Just checking with you first," Sanji continued. He then took out a pack, shook out a cigarette and lit it. He took a drag and let the smoke out in one long stream.

Nami couldn't believe her eyes. He was smoking after that long, hard run. The man actually bought cigarettes with him on a jog.

"Do you think the geezer suspects anything?" Sanji asked suddenly in a serious voice.

"How would I know? I only met him yesterday. Remember?" She opened her bottle and swallowed a gulp of water. "Did he say something to you? Wasn't everything fine last night?"

He shook his head. "No. Just being a worrywart, I guess." He dropped his cigarette and grounded it with his heel. "But is there a particular way I should act towards you?"

"What do you mean?"

"How do straight couples behave towards each other?"

Nami rolled her eyes. "You have to be kidding me? You've seen straight couples before. On television, in movies? Usopp and Kaya!" she added triumphantly, finding a straight couple they both knew.

Sanji smirked. "I wouldn't call Usopp the most stellar example of an ideal boyfriend," he countered.

"Uh, well, yeah," she agreed reluctantly. True, Usopp wasn't exactly the most wonderful boyfriend in the world. At times, he was forgetful and inattentive and he wasn't overly romantic. By appearances, it seemed he would rather play games and tell jokes with the kids than hang out with Kaya, which was furthest from the truth because she knew them so well. But to some people, it would be hard to see them as a couple.

"As for the entertainment media, I don't pay much attention to them. Not that interesting to me. Plus they're not the same as real life."

Nami sighed frustrated. "Straight couples can't be any different from gay couples."

"You know this for a fact? How many gay couples do you know?"

"Well," Nami wavered a bit. He got her there. Now she wasn't so sure. The more she analyzed it, more perplexed she became. Besides the obvious, what do gay couples like do together? Guy stuff like watching sports, playing video games, working out, fishing, and fixing things? Or do they still do the girly mushy stuff in a relationship? "I don't know any personally, but I imagine they do the same things."

"Like what?" he challenged.

"I don't know. Say nice things to each other. Do romantic stuff. Anything to show they love each other, or at least like each other."

He chuckled. "Love or like each other?" he commented, slightly amused. "You sound pretty iffy to me."

Offended, she remarked, "It depends. Not every couple is the same."

"You just said gay couples weren't different from straight couples. Now all couples aren't the same. That's a bit of a contradiction."

"Forget what I said earlier," Nami demanded, heaving a heavy sigh."Just pretend that you like me and it should be good enough."

Sanji paused and blinked in surprise. "But I do like you."

Nami resisted the urge to look at him and instead decided her shoelaces needed tightening. "Look. If we don't have to spend too much time together, we can probably get away with it without your father thinking there's something fishy going on."

"That's unlikely," Sanji said depressingly. "We've been invited to dinner this weekend."

"By who?" Alarmed, she couldn't avoid his gaze this time.

"The geezer's old friends. They ran the restaurant with him years ago."

Nami frowned. A dinner party meant having to dress up and having to rub elbows with people you really don't know. Not a fun scenario. She and Sanji would be put under a microscope for sure at a party, the validity of their relationship put to the test. It was something she did not want to deal with. "There's no way you can get me out of it?" she pleaded desperately.

"Can you think of a good excuse?"

Nami made a mental note to think of one. There was still plenty of time.

They walked back to the condominium, chatting about random things. There was delicious smell when they stepped in. Out of the bathroom, Zeff was cooking something yummy in the kitchen.

"You can have the bathroom first," Sanji said amiably. "You're really sweaty."

Nami shot him a disgusted look, but didn't argue. She retrieved a towel from the closet shelf and a terrycloth robe and went in the bathroom for a quick shower. After she dried off and got dressed, she headed to the kitchen. There were angry words and sounds of a scuffle. What she saw made her back out of the kitchen.

Slamming the door closed, Nami squeezed her eyes. That looked really weird. She cracked open the door and peered inside. They were locked in a life or death struggle over the stove, Zeff and Sanji in a shoving match of epic proportion. Zeff held a frying pan and spatula, his back facing Sanji. Sanji had his shoulder pressed against the old man in a vain effort to push him out of the way. It was difficult to tell who was winning. Sanji had youth and strength on his side, but Zeff had more mass. It looked like a stalemate.

Their father-son bonding was a little extreme, but at least they were interacting. Nami gave them a little more time to settle down and counted the seconds. The noise didn't die down any. Deciding it was long enough, she brushed back her hair, fixed her blouse and entered the kitchen with a bright smile on her face. "Good morning," she said merrily. They ignored her and continued their quarreling.

"Shitty geezer! You don't have to do anything. I'll take care of it."

"I don't need a little eggplant ordering me around. I cook what I want to cook."

The shoving and the squabbling proceeded unabated while Nami went unnoticed.

"Men," Nami mumbled irritably, tapping her finger. It was time for an intervention. She took a deep breath and said in a loud cheery voice, "Something smells good. What's for breakfast? I'm _so hungry_."

They halted their match and stared at her in pure astonishment like she suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Pleased with the instant result, Nami smoothly seated herself at the table and waited expectantly.

From what Sanji mentioned, Zeff was a professional and highly sought after chef in his days. He taught Sanji everything he knew about cooking. With two dyed-in-the-wool chefs in the kitchen, they wouldn't dare turn a blind eye to a hungry patron. Immediately they broke away from each other. Sanji darted to the refrigerator and Zeff heated up the stove. The race was on.

A few seconds later, "Here you go, pu-pumpkin," Sanji bumbled as he set down a cup of her favorite coffee. "Breakfast will be ready in a minute."

"Thank you," Nami replied stiffly. Pumpkin? She didn't miss the connecting reference to her hair color. Well, pumpkin wasn't so bad. She had been called worse as a kid. She sipped the coffee, enjoying the wonderful aroma until she noticed the milk foam. It was shaped like a...heart? She eyed it warily before putting the cup down.

Zeff produced a plate of blueberry muffins and placed it on the center of the table. Nami happily snagged one and started munching on it.

"Gum-drop," he voiced, smiling forcefully. "I made you this with all my love." Sanji set down a plate of hash brown, sausages and fried eggs. The yolks was molded uncannily into the shape of hearts. Nami gaped at them, wondering how he managed to do that.

Zeff harrumphed loudly. "Did you two have a fight? Why is Sanji sleeping on the sofa?" he said fiercely, interrogating them like policeman. He went to the counter and started chopping vegetables at lightning fast speed, going through them faster than a paper shredder.

Sanji froze, his eyes widening. He threw a panicky look to Nami. She merely shook her head. She was as confounded as he was. How the hell did Zeff know Sanji slept on the sofa? Sanji cleared the blanket and pillows off and stored them away before they left for their run.

Regaining some of his wits, Sanji sputtered out, "You're imagining things. You have jet lag." Nervously, he deposited a plate of sliced grapefruit in front of her. The china and fork rattled sharply against each other. "Why would I be sleeping on the sofa? Not when I have my cuddly-wuddly to keep me warm."

Nami choked on the blueberry muffin, coughing. She grabbed a napkin to wipe her mouth. "Sorry," she apologized.

"My princess, my angel, my goddess. The apple of my eye. How could I bear to be away from my radiant snuggle-bunny?" Sanji resumed, undaunted. He spun around the kitchen, twirling like a ballerina. He stopped at the table and then settled down on one knee, offering a strawberry banana crepes to her.

Nami nearly spitted out her coffee. Holy crap! Sanji went absolutely mental. What man in his right mind could possibly act like this?

The chopping finished, Zeff's eyebrow arched dubiously.

Anxious to change the subject, Nami cut in quickly. "What's wrong with my-the guest bathroom?"

Zeff huffed and frowned. "I don't like it. No tub and the sink drains too slow." He gave her plate of french toast topped with orange and cream. It looked tasty.

"Does it? I've never noticed it before."

"Maybe it's clogged, honey-bun," Sanji sang. "You should call a plumber to check it out."

Nami made a funny face before changing it back to a sunny smile when Zeff looked her way. The pet names were getting annoying. Then she realized she didn't have sit there and take it from Sanji. Two could play this game.

Slowly and demurely Nami shifted her gaze to Sanji as she smashed the yolk with her fork. "Poopie-head, why do I need to call the plumber when you can look it yourself? You're so good at fixing things."

There was a slight hesitation and a tightening of the jaw. "But love-muffin, I don't have any plumbing tools. How could I?" he informed her, his voice strained.

"I'm sure the superintendent would be happy to loan you anything you need, shmoopsie-poo," Nami said saccharinely.

Sanji's mouth went slacked-jawed before he responded. "What a scintillating suggestion. Only someone as brilliant as you could think of something like that. I'll get on it right away."

Feeling deliciously vindictive, Nami grinned and savored her praline. She was being bad and she knew it, but it was rather fun watching Sanji squirm like that. She had a certain leverage she never realized she had, an advantage, a power. Of course there was that cliche: _Great power comes great responsible_, or however that line went. She certainly wasn't going to abuse it, not that much.

"Sanji, sweetie-poo. Could you do me an itsy-bitsy flavor, please?"

"What is it?" Sanji asked fearfully.

"Could you do my laundry for me this week? I've been so busy at work, I just don't have the time."

Sanji turned to Zeff and saw him busy scrapping the scales off a salmon in the sink. "What are you doing?" he whispered to her.

Nami ignored him and continued, "It would mean so much to me if you could help me." She batted her eyelashes and smiled.

Sanji looked one more time at Zeff and relented. "Of course! Anything for my fruitcake."

When was breakfast done, Nami couldn't eat anymore. Sanji and Zeff went overboard with breakfast. They kept piling the dishes on the table until there wasn't anymore room. They were nuts if they thought she or anybody else could eat it all. There was enough food to feed a small crew.

Dressed with a big lunchbox packed by Sanji, Nami was off to work, which was a good thing for once. She could hear another bickering match brewing over who was going to clean the kitchen.


	20. One Too Many Cook in the Kitchen

Roommates

Nami heard the cell phone vibrate in her handbag as she worked. She wanted to ignore it and let it buzz away unattended. If it was important that was what voice mail was for. And even when there was a message, it was rarely important. She learned from experience that no one called her unless they wanted something from her: information, work or a favor. No one ever called her to simply chat and ask her how the weather was.

But it was her poor habit to be prompt and diligent about certain things and ringing phones happened to be one of them. So after a few more buzzes, she surrendered, stopped her work and dug in her handbag for the phone.

"Hello?" Nami greeted.

"Nami," a male voice responded. "Could you come home for dinner?"

"Huh?" She was completely lost as to who the caller was. "Who is this? Sanji? Is that you?"

"Yes." He sounded exasperated.

"Sorry, I didn't recognize your phone voice. What's up? I'm in the middle of something at the moment." Nami started back to work, typing one-handed on the computer.

"I really need you to come home for dinner."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"You should come home for dinner," Sanji implored and hesitated before he resumed. "We made dinner."

"Oh? You made dinner? That's nice. I'm a little busy at work. I don't know when I'll be done, but I'll try to be home early." Nami gazed depressingly at the mountain of paperwork beside her. Yeah, right. More like early next spring.

"_WE_ made dinner," he repeated.

Nami paused as she took in his simple statement. "You and your father? How much food did you two prepare?" Even over the phone she could tell Sanji was wincing over her words.

"Please come home for dinner." Sanji hung up before she could probe him further.

Nami stared at her cell phone and sighed. How much could they possibly have cooked? Didn't they learned their lesson after breakfast today? But there was no way to know until she returned home. If she could get her work done, that is. Another stack of files fell on her desk and she saw stupid Nezumi trotted off, tapping away on his iPhone.

There were certainly perks to having a gourmet chef as a roommate: leftovers from his restaurant, free cooking, morning coffee and midnight snacks. Sanji loved cooking and he enjoyed feeding people, namely her. Who was she to deny him such simple pleasures. But as Nami soon discovered, when you had two chefs under one roof, there were unforeseen problems. Why couldn't Sanji and Zeff play nice and share like mature adults?

Nami managed to whiz through most of her work in record-breaking time. Whatever she didn't finish, she tossed on Nezumi's desk. She was pretty sure the stack would be back on her desk tomorrow morning, but she would deal with it then.

An unmemorable trip on the subway, Nami hurried up the elevator and through the hallway. Her keys had somehow made themselves difficult and elusive and she spent a few a minutes searching for them in her handbag. When she finally found them and got it in the doorknob, she was annoyed to discovered to she didn't need them in the first place. Somebody had left the door unlocked.

Slowly and cautiously, she made her way to the kitchen. She didn't hear anything and didn't see any mangled body parts lying about, which she suppose was a good sign. Like a nervous thief, she edged the door open to peer inside.

When did the kitchen suddenly turn into such a scary place?

It wasn't as scary as she feared, but there was certainly jaw-dropping what she saw, plate after plate of food. They were even stacked on top between plates. The entire table was covered with dishes of every kind. She couldn't see the table anymore. The counter didn't fared any better and stove had pots and pans still brewing and bubbling with other concoctions. It wasn't dinner that Sanji and Zeff made, it was a grand banquet.

Unbelievable. They cook all this in one day, she thought.

Nami heard a noise and turned to find Sanji coming out of his room. He looked sheepishly at her as he straightened his tie.

"How's work?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Forget about work. What are we going to do about this? We can't eat all this food?"

"Oh?" Sanji glanced uneasily at the kitchen. "I'm sure we can pack it up in your Tupperware and eat it slowly over the week." Nami gave him an incredulous look and glowered at him. "Or not," he mumbled.

"Why didn't you stop him?"

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled a little. "It was fun, trying to out-cook him. I haven't done that in a long time."

"That's great, but what are we going to do? Where is your father now?"

"The geezer? He step out to get more food."

She stopped breathing. "What?" she croaked. "You're kidding me. He's not done?"

Sanji shook his head. "Nope."

Nami rubbed her forehead, trying to think and then she ran outside.

"Where are you going? Dinner is ready."

"I'm going to fix our problem," she said flatly. With that, she grabbed her cell phone and started dialing. At the same time she sprinted down the other end of the hallway.

"Usopp!" Nami almost screamed into her cell phone.

"Whoa! You killed my eardrum," Usopp protested. "Where's the fire?"

"Never mind that. You haven't eaten, right?"

Usopp hesitated. "Uh, no. Why?"

"Good. Get your butt down here, pronto. Bring Kaya. And anyone else that's hungry."

"Where?" He sounded confused. "What's going on?"

"Our place, stupid. I don't have time to explain. It's an emergency. Just get over here," Nami ordered. She shut off her cell phone, tucked it back in her pants pocket and squared her shoulders. Quickly she rang the doorbell. A slender young lady answered, looking startled.

"Conis, how are you doing? Are you hungry?" Nami asked, smiling sweetly at her.

Nami repeated this same invitation to everyone on her floor. She was even prepared to offer the invitation to God, but luckily for her, he was out. She shoved Brook into the doorway, despite his protests that he had eaten. Nami told him to eat more. He looked like skins and bones to her. After that, she pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her address book. She called Robin, who said would be there shortly along with a few of her associates. Hatchan answered and was bringing Camie and so on.

Of course there was the matter of finding enough chairs for everyone. Conis's father, Pagaya, and Jango volunteered and brought back tables and chairs from their place and set up another eating area in the living room.

Zeff returned back soon enough and didn't seem at all perturbed with a crowd growing in their apartment. He only bristled his mustache, went back to the stove and started barking orders at Sanji to serve. Sanji complied in good humor and pulled out a tray to pass out drinks.

The last minute party, as it became, was a success. News of free food traveled fast and even people Nami never meet before came. The crowd made quick work of food in the kitchen. Even with Zeff still cooking, he couldn't keep up with the demand and the hunger of the crowd and he had to give up. It was then Nami started kicking people out. Politely with the people she knew and not so politely with people she didn't. A bunch of free-loaders, she grumbled under her breath.

One sure-fire technique to get everyone to leave in a hurry is to ask them to clean. When Nami did, it was like a stampede of wild buffaloes. Even their so-called friends and neighbors suddenly had somewhere else to be. Despite their hasty getaway, Sanji still generously packed them the left-overs from the banquet using _her_ Tupperware. Sometimes he could be too nice. Nami made a mental note of who had which of her Tupperware.

Grumpy and tired, Zeff was the first to retire. He mumbled something she couldn't make out to Sanji and then stumbled off to his room. Sanji grinned, quite pleased with himself.

"What did he say to you?" Nami settled next to him by the sink, drying the plates with a dishrag.

Still beaming, he proudly replied, "He said my consomme soup was good."

Nami wondered if she even tried his soup. Probably not. There was so many different kind of dishes, it was impossible to have sampled them all.

In a low voice, Sanji reflected, "You know what you did, it was a smart idea, but we could have been caught. There were a lot of people here. It only takes one of them to say the wrong thing."

Nami smirked. "Well, you have to take risks sometimes. Live wild. Plus everyone was stuffing their face, who had time to say anything." She reached over to lightly pat his cheek. "Relax, my poopie-head. We're half-way there."

"So confident all of a sudden," he murmured, rather annoyed.

Sanji took out the remaining the trash while Nami tidied up in the kitchen, putting away the dishes and utensils. It took a lot of time getting things back the way it was.

After changing in the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she headed back to Sanji's room only to stop and stare. Instead of laying on the sofa like he did the previous night, Sanji was passed out in his bed, the blanket draped haphazardly over him. Did he forget the sleeping arrangement?

Her mind blanked for a moment and it took her a while before she snapped out of her silly stupor to assess the situation. It should be an easy problem to remedy, she told herself. She tried coughing, coughing loudly. That didn't wake him. Then she tried prodding his shoulder, but he remained motionless. She frowned. She hadn't realized he was such a heavy sleeper.

Finally she decided to call him. "Sanji, wake up," she growled. But still no reaction. He was dead to the world.

Unless she could carry him off and dump him on the sofa, she didn't have much choice. Nami sighed as she glanced at the sofa. Not a fun prospect. Then she stared hard at the bed. It was huge, plenty of room for two people and she noted with great suspicion that Sanji slept directly on the right side, conveniently leaving ample room on the left. Did he really mean for them to sleep together? In the same bed? She certainly didn't forget how Zeff caught Sanji on the sofa, questioning their relationship.

"Sanji," she pleaded once more. A soft snore was her only reply.

Frustrated from the lack of response from the man, Nami climbed into bed and jammed the pillow between them. All right, she could do this. If Sanji was still fretting over his father discovering their little ruse, she could sleep with him. It was not like she was really sleeping with him, right. He was gay and wasn't in the least bit interested in her. So what could possibly happen?

Too bad she had a hard time convincing herself of this.

For her part, she tried to sleep, but she was uneasy. Nami laid on her back and then flipped onto to her stomach only to switch onto her side. She tossed and she turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail. She wanted to give up and try the sofa. At this point, she would give anything a try.

Getting ready to slip out, she felt a hand grab her arm, stopping her. Surprised she turned her head. Apparently her tossing and turning shook Sanji out of his slumber. What a relief, he finally woke up. She could tell him the sleeping arrangement wasn't working out and convince him to take the sofa again.

Nami was about to explain herself when she noticed he didn't saying anything to her. Sanji only stared at her. It was hard to make out his eyes through his long floppy hair, but he was definitely staring at her. He didn't let go of his grip, but moved closer, his mouth open, licking his lips.

She panicked and she froze where she was. What was he doing? He eased over her, his body hovering over hers. His other hand fluidly traced the length of her arm until it came to rest on her wrist and then in a bold move, he slid his hand under her shirt where his fingers deftly caressed her abdomen.

It was an electrifying touch. Nami sucked in her breath, her heart pounding. What was happening? Her eyes widened and then squeezed shut as Sanji continued his maddening touch. The weight of his body rested atop of hers and she was trapped and helpless. She could feel him pulling apart her shirt as he nudged her shoulder and then her neck. Slowly he worked his way up, nibbling and sucking at her skin.

Nami panted and wiggled underneath him, her mind spinning out of control. She should stop him, knock some sense into him, do something to him! Instead she wrapped her arms tightly around him and drew him closer to her. Sanji paused long enough to smile at her. Cupping her chin, he tilted his head and dipped down to take her mouth. The kiss was so surreal.

Her eyes popped open. The room was dim, but she could still make out the vague outline of furniture. Nami sat up straight and checked herself. Her clothes were intact. Frantically she searched the other side of the bed only to find Sanji sound asleep. He was sleeping rather close to the edge as though he was trying to be as far away as possible. His position was so precarious, all he needed was one good shove and he would be off the bed and on the floor. Of course Nami wasn't the type of gal to do that to a guy...under normal circumstances.

Still being too early for anything else, Nami laid back down and pulled the blanket over herself. Smashing the pillow over her head, she groaned softly to herself. She couldn't believe what happened. Just now reality seeped into her groggy brain and hit her full-force. She dreamt she was making out with Sanji. Ohmigod!

Happy April Fools' Day! :P


	21. Sink or Swim

Roommates

"Nami, wake up. How long are you going to sleep?"

Tired and stiff, Nami lifted her head and squinted her eyes. She had a hard time moving. "What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"It's ten o'clock."

His words sank in and Nami bolted awake. "Oh my god. I'm late for work! Why didn't you wake me sooner?" She tossed off the blanket and tumbled out of bed. The landing was hard and embarrassing. She miscalculated the distance to the edge. Being in a different bed and sleeping on a different side made it confusing for her.

"Because it's Saturday." Sanji shook his head as he collected the blanket and started making the bed. He was already dressed, wearing black jeans and a blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. "You sleep too much."

Nami massaged the back of her neck and relaxed. "Saturday? Ah, that's right. I forgot." She grinned sheepishly and climbed back into bed.

"Shit! What are you doing?" Sanji demanded. He had finished making the bed only to have her crawl back in.

"Sleep."

"For how long?"

"Give me another couple of hours please."

"What? That late. It'll be lunchtime. How can you sleep that much?"

"I couldn't sleep last night, okay. Just leave me alone," Nami grumbled and pulled the blanket over her head. She only wanted to disappear.

"Why not? I slept fine."

Because I was having an erotic dream about you, jackass. Of course she didn't say it out loud. No way in hell. Instead Nami kept quiet and pretended to be asleep, hoping he would just leave. Eventually Sanji gave up and left the room.

When she heard the door close, she kicked off the blanket, grabbed a pillow and screamed mutely into it. Then she rolled over and groaned. It seemed forever before she finally managed to fall asleep last night. Now she was dead tired. Her brain drained of any intelligence.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was acting stupid over a stupid dream.

It's not like no one in the entire history of the human civilization never had an erotic dream about their friend, classmate, coworker, roommate, or whoever. She was pretty sure men had plenty of erotic dreams. So it shouldn't be weird if a woman had one, now and then. It was reasonable to assume that last night's sleeping arrangement bought it on. Nothing else. Nothing to agonize about. So she told herself.

Despite feeling exhausted, it proved impossible to go back to sleep. Nami laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. How many days until she was back in her own room and in her own bed? A few more days?

Being Sanji's so called beard was harder than she thought. It wasn't the lovey-dovey act they had to put on in front of Zeff that was the problem. It was the fact that they also had to share a room together which made it much harder. She had to be more conscious what she did in his room. Changing clothes was awkward for both of them. She certainly couldn't toss her things wherever she felt like. She had to be clean and proper. Behave like a guest in her own home. She didn't realize she would miss the privacy of her own room.

Bored with the look of the ceiling, Nami scrambled out of bed and wandered to the bathroom to wash up. She was startled when she bumped into Zeff in the kitchen. He gave her a once-over, scrutinizing her pajamas and slippers. "Breakfast is on the table," he stated.

"Thanks. I'll have some later."

Nami turned to leave when he suddenly asked if she was busy tonight.

"Uh, no. I don't think so. Why? What's going on?"

"Good," Zeff replied and then he went back to the stove.

Nami frowned at him when he didn't elaborate. He only stirred his pot completely ignoring her. She gave him a funny look and shrugged her shoulders. She didn't want to bother him. He seemed very absorbed in his cooking.

After a quick search of the apartment, she found Sanji in her own bathroom, laying on his back, hidden under the sink. A open toolbox sat on the floor next to him.

"What are you doing?" She squatted down next to him, glancing at the mess he was making.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm doing exactly what you suggested, remember. Ouch!" He hit his hand against something.

"Oh yeah." Nami giggled, remembering yesterday's breakfast conversation. He was suppose to check on her sink. She didn't expect him to take her seriously on her suggestion. "So how is it going?"

"Peachy. I'm having so much fun. I can't even get this shitty pipe off."

"Wait." She peered in the toolbox and picked out a pipe wrench. "Use this instead."

"Thanks," Sanji mumbled. He handed her the other wrench and took hers. He started banging the pipe with it. Shocked at the racket he was making, Nami wanted to stop him and tell him to not use it like a hammer, but what was the use. Men tend to get annoyed at her when she told them how to do things.

"The geezer was wondering why you weren't awake. He thought you weren't feeling well so he wanted to make you his crappy medicinal tea."

Nami made a sour face. She didn't like medicine. "I'm glad you stopped him."

"Oh, that stuff works wonders, but I hate it with a passion. He use to make it for me when I was a kid. It tastes like shit and it stinks up the kitchen."

"It sounds horrible."

Sanji laughed out loud. "I told the geezer we were having mad-sex last night so you were exhausted."

Nami jumped a little, her heart beating wildly. Did something happen last night? Ohmigod! Did Sanji know? Freaked out by the possibility, she felt her face turn hot. Seconds later she realized he was kidding and she became mad. "You did not!" She beat his leg.

"Ow! Be careful. I'm working here." Sanji jerked his leg and wiggled out from the under the sink, rubbing the spot where she hit him.

"How can you say that to your father?" Nami cried indignantly. No wonder Zeff was eyeing her like that in the kitchen. She thought it was because of her Hello Kitty slippers.

"I thought it was pretty clever," Sanji said quietly as he sat up.

Nami looked away in frustration and threw her hands in the air. "Great. He probably thinks I'm some kind of a sex-fiend who likes to wear cutesy plush slippers."

"Keep your voice down. The geezer might hear." Sanji fanned his hands at her. Then he darted outside to her room, shut the door to the living room and came back. "There's nothing wrong with wearing plush slippers."

Nami scowled over her shoulder. Like she was worried about her slippers.

Sanji tossed the wrench back with the rest of the tools and indicated to the sink drain. "Can we call a plumber now? I've tried for an hour to unclog this shitty sink. It's unfixable. Let's buy a new sink."

"We don't need to buy a new sink. Let me try." Nami took the wrench from the toolbox and motioned Sanji to move away from the sank. He complied happily.

It turned out she didn't need the wrench. She managed to loosen the two coupling nuts by hand and twisted the U-shaped trap off the tailpiece. It was clogged with hair, an earring, a pencil and some icky gunk she rather not touch.

"By the way, what's going on tonight?" she asked as she worked.

"What do you mean?"

"Your father asked me if I was busy tonight." Nami inverted the sink trap, gave it a few good taps in the trash bin, and then rinsed it out in the shower before putting it back on the sink drain.

"What did you say?" Sanji became nervous for some reason.

Nami shrugged. "I said wasn't busy, but your father didn't say what it was about."

He winced, covering his mouth with his hand. "How can you forget about the dinner party already? You were suppose to find a way out for yourself."

For a moment, Nami couldn't think of a single thing to say. Forget the dinner party? That didn't make any sense. The one they threw last night? Then it hit her like a freight train. "That's tonight?" she blurted.

Sanji nodded.

"Is it too late to take back what I said? You could tell him-"

"I don't want to tell him anything," Sanji cut in. "I already told him that you might not be able to go. If you have a good excuse after telling him you weren't busy, then you tell him." He was adamant about that.

Trapped. Nami was trapped. It wasn't even a sneaky, tricky trap, but she was trapped.

Nami ate her breakfast, or more like her lunch, and got dressed for shopping. Sanji gave her a choice. She could either stay in the apartment and hang out with him and Zeff or she could find something to do until it was time for the dinner party. She opted for the latter choice.

It was a good five hours to kill, but it didn't seem long enough. Nami left the apartment and headed to the superintendent's office to drop off the toolbox. The sink drained at a decent speed so Zeff shouldn't be hogging the main bathroom anymore.

The day was warm and sunny. She spent most of her time walking the market street and window shopping. She never did buy anything. She wasn't in the shopping mood. She got as far as the public library, where she stopped by to read the magazines. On a foolish idea, she thought she could find something to help her. But really she couldn't find any reading material resembling her situation.

Having enough of the library, Nami came back tired and her hands stained from all the newspapers she went through. In retrospect, she shouldn't have gone out. Her feet were sore from all the walking. She should have stayed in bed and risked Zeff's crappy tea.

Nami found Sanji and Zeff in the living room, watching a tennis match on television. They sat on opposite ends of the couch. Zeff folded his arms across his chest. He was dressed in regular dark brown suit. Nothing fancy, but he did have a necktie on. She greeted them and Sanji nodded at her. He also changed clothes.

In his predictable slick black suit, Sanji's coat was unbuttoned, revealing his necktie and much of his burgundy shirt. A neatly tucked pocket square completed his ensemble. Nami didn't notice anything weird until she stopped to watch them watch the TV. They were quiet and motionless even during the exciting moments of the match.

"Remember Patty?" Sanji asked without taking eyes off the screen.

"Patty? I don't know any Patty. Should I know her?"

"HE," Sanji huffed, "is the sushi chef."

Nami paused and squinted her eyes at him. Why was Sanji being so vague today? Should she be familiar with any sushi chef?

"He works at the cafeteria in your building," he resumed. "Remember when you took me to the cafeteria?"

"When did I ever take you to the cafeteria?" Nami objected.

Sanji sighed. "Anyways, Patty is driving over here to pick us up. Better get dressed."

Nami needed a quick shower. The long walk and the warm weather left her a little sweaty. She didn't bother to wash her hair. Done with the bathroom, she hurried out to get dress. She wondered if she could get away with wearing slacks and a shirt. The dinner party couldn't be that formal.

Putting on her underwear, she went to the closet to pick her clothes. She swung the door open and stared at her wardrobe. She closed the door, thought for a moment, and then opened the door again. Something was definitely wrong when she searched the closet.

Where the hell were her clothes?

Her side of the closet was almost empty, save for a few T-shirts, shoes and purses. She checked the drawers and discovered her pants and sweaters were missing as well. She had been robbed! Nami ran halfway to the living room only to realize she was in her underwear. She sprinted back and threw on her terrycloth robe.

"Sanji!" She craned her neck around the corner of the wall. Sanji and Zeff were still seated on the couch.

"Yes, my poopsy-woopsy?" Sanji turned and gave her a slow smile.

Calming herself down, she lowered her tone when she saw the look on Sanji's face. "Sanji, sweetie-pie. Where are my clothes?"

He blinked, feigning innocence. "I took them to be cleaned. The dry cleaner has them."

"All of them?" she uttered in disbelief.

"They needed to be clean. Remember, you asked me to do your laundry," he said serenely.

Nami shook her head. She definitely should have stayed in bed today. Evidently Sanji had too much free time on his hands. "What am I suppose to wear if you took EVERYTHING to the cleaner?"

"Dumpling, don't be silly. You have something to wear. Did you look in the closet?"

"In the closet?" Sanji left her something? She didn't remember seeing anything remotely decent to wear in the closet. She returned to the closet. Sanji's clothes hung to one side, full of black coats and jackets with the occasional brightly colored shirts, hanging in between.

What was Sanji talking about? Unless he was expecting her to wear his clothes, which she didn't think was possible, she didn't see anything. Then she spotted the clothes covered in the cream-colored plastic bag, hanging in the middle of the closet. She carefully lifted the bag to see what it was and exclaimed.

It was a beige jacket with a white skirt hanging off a second hanger inside. Strange, she thought. They seemed awfully familiar. Where did Sanji get these? She checked the label on the jacket and froze.

Holy shit! It was a Dior! Now the memory came back to her. It was when Sanji dragged her off to go tie shopping with him. That six-thousand-dollar outfit was now hanging in the closet. Was Sanji insane?

Nami heard the door behind her open and she spun around. It was Sanji, his hands in his pants pocket.

"When-how-what-argh," she babbled, until she regained enough of her senses. "Are you serious?"

"Don't argue. Just wear it. We don't have much time. Patty will be here soon."

"Why?"

He looked at her and considered. His hand pulled out a cigarette, but he only held it between his fingers. "I wanted you to look nice for the party."


	22. Baratie Reunion

Roommates

Nami flinched in surprise when the door flung open. Sanji checked in again. He waited impatiently for her outside. She glared at him as she struggled with her pantyhose. The man needed to learn to knock first.

"You're still not done? Why do women take so much time getting ready?" Sanji criticized and then closed the door.

Nami rolled her eyes in annoyance. She was going as fast as she could. It was hard putting on pantyhose while standing. It was hard finding a pair in the first place. She hardly ever wore them so she had trouble remembering where she stored them. She went through her suitcases, boxes and bags, trying to locate one.

Finally getting the pantyhose on, she examined herself in the full-length mirror. The white taffeta skirt was airy and smooth to the touch, but, in her opinion, not worth two-thousand-dollars. The blue blouse she had on was one of the few clothing that didn't get sent to the cleaner. She wouldn't be surprised if Sanji purposely left it behind.

Patty had arrived and was in the living room, chatting loudly with Zeff. A medium-sized man with a trimmed black beard, he wore a plain white shirt and a red ascot around his neck. Admittedly, he did seem familiar to Nami. She conceded she might have see him somewhere before.

Nami had stepped out briefly to greet him. She apologized and told everyone she wasn't ready and needed a few minutes before they could go. Patty bellowed a loud laugh and told her to take all the time in the world. He grabbed Sanji and put him in a headlock, mussing his hair. That earned him an angry scowl from Sanji. Sanji shoved him away and stood a good distance from him.

Back in Sanji's room, Nami gave one last tug with the curling iron, fixed her hair and adjusted her earrings in the mirror. With her appearance done, she put on the jacket, careful to hide the tag under the sleeve and picked up her purse. She'll need to be extra careful tonight.

Patty's car was parked not far the apartment building. Zeff took the front seat while Sanji opened the door for Nami. She slid in, wondering how she should fold her skirt before sitting down. It was a very flowing skirt. Should she fold it in or should she spread it out? She couldn't make up her mind. If she didn't do it right, the back of the skirt will end up wrinkly from the car ride.

Suddenly Nami noticed everyone was watching her. They were seated and their seat belts buckled. "Sorry," she muttered. Quickly she spread her skirt and sat down.

Patty dominated the conversation and monopolized Zeff's attention during the car ride. He mostly talked about his new restaurant and was eager to show it to Zeff. Zeff mainly listened and grunted his approval.

Nami turned to Sanji and asked, "Where are we going?"

"The geezer's old restaurant," he whispered. He was playing with a cigarette in his hand.

"Oh? I thought he's retired. He still has a restaurant here? You never mentioned that to me."

"He left it to his workers to run."

"Why not you?" Nami said the question too fast to realize there might have been something awkward about the arrangement. Maybe another reason to his estrangement with his father.

Sanji hesitated but held a straight face. "I had other goals. I did work in his restaurant when I was younger. Learned everything about cooking and serving there. But when I got older, I wanted something different."

"I can understand that." It made sense to Nami. She didn't want to stay on Bellemere's farm forever. While growing tangerines was a good and honest profession, she couldn't see herself doing that for the rest of her life. She wanted to find her calling, to meet new people, to explore the world. The adventurer's spirit.

"It's better that his workers ran it," Sanji resumed. "They're hardworking and they love the restaurant. It's almost like a second home to them. To some, it's their only home. A few of them have been since the beginning of the restaurant."

"Wow, like one big family." Nami smiled.

Sanji nodded. "The geezer hired anybody that needed a job. Even people straight off the streets," he said proudly. "If they couldn't cook, serve, or clean, he still found something for them to do."

It was a good hour worth of driving before they reached the restaurant. Nami stepped out of the car, straightening her skirt immediately. The area was right off the highway and spacious with ample of parking space. There was a shopping mall nearby with a lot of busy shoppers. The restaurant itself was very...special. The structure was enormous, three-stories high. Painted with lots of bright colors, it had a gigantic fish head built in the front. The fish mouth was the entrance.

So this was the Baratie, Nami thought. The architect was certainly one of a kind. For some reason she thought of a ship, maybe because of its wooden deck, rails, and cannons. "Is it a sea food restaurant?" she asked in amazement.

"We serve everything!" Patty said enthusiastically. "Come inside. You have to see the place. We made some changes." Patty pushed Zeff through the doors while Sanji and Nami followed behind.

More than two dozen men greeted Zeff at the entrance, crowding around him. Some shoving, some weeping, some hugging. It was a very emotional scene.

"It's been a long time, boss! We missed you!" a man with a goatee shouted. He wore a blue ascot similar to Patty's and had on a pair of dark sunglasses.

"It's like a wonderful dream," a chubby short man sobbed.

Patty became mad and started barking orders. "Shut up, Chuck. Don't be a cry baby, Shin. Stop crying already. Let them through, Carne. They're tired and thirsty. Let them sit. Ham, get them some drinks." The crowd parted to let them through. They were brought to a large round table. Sanji held her chair for her as she sat down, still mindful of her clothes. After that, he made brief introductions.

Nami couldn't help but stare in awe at the surrounding. It was not what she expected. The inside of the restaurant was very different from the outside. It was classy and ornate with its dazzling crystal chandeliers, pristine ivory tablecloths, plush ruby-red carpet and grand fireplace. The waiters were dressed in black vested suits while the cooks were dressed in clean white uniforms.

Patty grabbed Zeff and insisted he tour the restaurant and see its major renovations. Their first stop was obviously the kitchen, and they disappeared upstairs.

"It's so exciting. It's like a family reunion. Even your cousin is coming, Sanji," Carne said, rumpling his hair.

"My cousin?" Sanji's face seemed visibly pale all of a sudden.

"Yes, your favorite cousin is coming. Isn't it wonderful?" Chuck, a bartender, bought a tray of different beverages and handed them to Sanji and Nami.

"He's my only cousin," Sanji corrected, his shoulders drooping noticeably. He took his drink and downed it in one gulp.

"You have a cousin?" Nami's curiosity was piqued. Sanji's family was growing bigger by the second.

"I don't want to talk about him."

Carne laughed. "Don't be like that. He worships you."

Now Nami was really interested. "Please tell me," she prodded, catching Sanji's arm with both of her hands. He almost spilt his drink because of her. "What's your cousin like? Why haven't you mentioned him before?"

"You don't want to know!"

Nami pouted at him, but he ignored her. She guessed she would have to wait.

Carne set down a silver platter of little hors d'oeuvres. Nami, being a little hungry, picked up one and starting nibbling it. It tasted fantastic. She popped the entire thing in her mouth and slowly savored it. Rich and creamy, it was nothing like she tasted before. She eyed the plate, and when she thought no one was looking, her hand flew out to snag two more pieces for herself.

"So when is the big day? We can cater your wedding for you." Carne beamed at her as he offered her a tray of stuffed mushrooms. "Whatever you want, we can make it beautiful."

Somewhat prepared, Nami swallowed first and then wiped her mouth with a napkin. "That's very kind of you to offer, but we haven't really thought that far ahead. We're both very busy with work and all. It will be a long time before we get marry."

"Years, decades away!" Sanji broke in. Despite working out their answers ahead of time, he still looked and sounded panicky.

"Uh, yes, decades," Nami echoed slowly. She was so tempted to give Sanji a good kick under the table. He needed to relax. "Sanji only recently proposed to me so it still feels new. We don't want to rush into anything."

"You haven't started planning yet?" Shin spoke, sounding astonished. One of the many waiters, he set down a plate of shrimp cocktail and took a seat across from them.

"If I was Sanji, I just get married right away. Why wait?" Chuck proclaimed. "Isn't that right, Ham."

"That's right. A pretty girl like her don't come around everyday." Half a dozen waiters and cooks lingered around their table, all agreeing with Ham.

Carne stood up abruptly and announced, "We should organize their wedding for them. The boss would love it!"

A roar of agreement filled the restaurant. It would have scared any patrons out of their chairs had the restaurant been open that night.

News traveled fast. Cooks, waiters, busboys, and dishwashers suddenly appeared out of the woodwork and crowded around their table.

Sanji went wide eye with terror. All he could do was stuttered incomprehensibly.

"No! We can't. That's not necessary," Nami said quickly, but no one heard her. They were too busy planning what they were going to make, what to wear, how to decorate the restaurant and so on.

How in the world did it turn out this way? The nerve of some people. They didn't even ask if it was okay with them first. A bunch of pushy busybodies they were. Nami wanted to yell at them and maybe beat them into submission, but she saw Sanji hyperventilating and looking very pale and decided against it. It probably wouldn't be a good idea if she became violent with them.

It was time for Plan B. Yes, she had a Plan B, which she never discussed with Sanji simply because it was so mind-numbingly stupid. She had to thank Usopp for Plan B.

After Nami agreed to be Sanji's pretend fiancée, she had to talk to somebody about it. It was only natural. Something as crazy as this, she couldn't keep to herself. Luckily, her list of personal friends to call were limited to a few people.

Nojiko, her sagacious and strictly by the book older sister, wouldn't have approved of the scheme and of course she would have blabbed the whole story to Bellemere, which Nami absolutely did not want. She wasn't sure what Bellemere would do if she knew. Maybe laugh at her, maybe pull out her shotgun.

There was Vivi, her best friend from high school. They were close and shared all kinds of secrets when they were teenagers. No doubt Vivi would be ecstatic to hear about of her faux engagement to Sanji, especially since she was so skeptical about Sanji's sexual orientation. She was never quite convinced he was gay, no matter how insistent Nami was. Also being recently married herself, Nami wouldn't be surprised if Vivi tried to lend a helping hand to her faux wedding as well.

That left good old Usopp. Not that Nami ever ran to him with any of her girl troubles. He was Sanji's close friend and he knew him longer than she did. He would certainly understand the situation better than anyone. However, when Nami told Usopp about the half-baked plan, the moron wouldn't stop laughing at her. He was to the point of crying, much to Nami displeasure.

As soon as his laughing fit subsided enough, Usopp consoled her in his special way: by poking fun of her. He did point out that if she had to do this for Sanji, might as well have a little fun with it. He started making up some outrageous stories for Nami to tell other people if the occasion called for it. She had to admit, she laughed at some of them and they made her feel better.

Now here she was, surrounded by strangers and getting ready to use one of Usopp's stories.

Nami held her head low and braced herself. "We can't get marry," she said in a voice loud enough to be heard over the chitchat.

The people at the table stopped and listened. Carne snapped his fingers at the crowd, yelling at them to shush up. Sanji had a confused look on his face.

Nami waited for the dramatic pause before resuming. "Not yet. I'm waiting for my father to return. I can't marry without him. It's always been my dream to have him walk me down the aisle." She held a napkin to her mouth and coughed into it.

"Oh, we wouldn't dream of holding your wedding without your father," Carne assured her. "Family is important. Isn't that right, fellas?" A murmur of approval went around. "We'll wait for your father."

"That's the thing." Nami's head dipped lower, staring hard at her lap. She didn't think she could hold a straight face if she was looking at anyone. Here was the bombshell of Usopp's story. "I only see him once every ten years."

No one said anything. She risked a quick peek at Sanji and saw his mouth agape.

Chuck broke the silence with a question. "How many times have you seen him?"

"I've met him twice," Nami blurted. It was a silly question. The math was simple enough.

"How can that be?"

"It's his work." Suddenly Nami couldn't remember his profession. Was he suppose to be a cursed pirate, revolutionary, spaceman, Shaolin monk, or a gamma ray scientist? Maybe he was just a traveling salesman. Needing an answer right away, she decided on the most reasonable profession. "He's an international secret agent."

Sanji sputtered. Nami handed him a napkin and he accepted it wordlessly.

"Amazing," Shin spoke quietly. "It must be very hard for you and your father."

"How can you bear it?" Ham added, almost crying.

Nami let out a sniffle and dabbed her eyes. "Yes it is hard, but I shouldn't be talking about him." She lowered her voice and leaned forward. "It's very dangerous. _They_ could be listening in."

Thankfully dinner started with no more talk about their wedding. The entire staff of the Baratie, both current and old, ate, drank and partied. They rambled on about old times and bragged about anything and everything. The rowdy ones cursed and punched each other. Evidently, it was normal for fights to break out. They lost track how many times the cops came out to Baratie.

More than once, Sanji was called Eggplant by the older men, not just Zeff, which made Sanji grimace. Nami wondered how he got the odd nickname.

At Nami's request, Sanji gave her a tour of the restaurant. The second floor was where the kitchen was. It was wide and long with row after row of stoves, counters, and sinks. Numerous hanging pots, pans and cooking utensils gleaned and shined in the light.

Even with the restaurant closed for the night, there was a lot activity in the kitchen. Nami watched with interest as one of the cook finished up a sirloin steak and garnished it. She even got a chance to try her hand at cooking, some kind of a soup dish, but she relinquished it back to the chef once she saw how complicated it was.

Sanji showed her the dumbwaiters that connected the kitchen to the restaurant below. They used them to lower the prepared meals to the first floor and to bring back the dirty dishes. If necessary, it was possible for the servers to climb the stairs up and down, but that probably took considerable amount of energy to perform repeatedly.

The top floor was the living quarters. Nami had no idea when Sanji said Baratie was their home that they actually lived in the restaurant, or more precisely, over it. Not all the workers lived in Baratie, Sanji explained, but many of them did. It was convenient and inexpensive for them. The rooms were fashioned similar to a college dormitory, containing the bare essential furniture like beds, desks, chairs and dressers. The bathrooms were communal and located by the stairs. There was a common room filled with sofas and a television. The floor was certainly loud and lively.

"You lived here?" Nami grinned. It was hard to imagine. The staff of Baratie kept the restaurant and the kitchen clean and tidy, but she couldn't say the same thing for their living quarters.

"Well, yes, but it wasn't this crowded when I lived here," Sanji answered. A man carrying a huge load of laundry shoved passed Sanji. Several pieces of clothes fell unnoticed from his basket, leaving behind a short trail of socks and underwear. Sanji frowned at the mess and then scooted the offending clothing to the side with his foot.

Nami giggled at him.

A loud explosion shook the window planes. "What's that noise?" he demanded. It sounded like a roaring engine. They ran out to the balcony to see.

Nami couldn't see very well in the dark, but she spotted someone on a very large motorbike. The rider shut off the engine and propped his bike on the kickstand. Whoever he was, he was alone and approaching the restaurant.

She didn't like the looks of him. Clad entirely in black leather and studded spikes, he was a tall man. "Is he a customer?" Maybe he didn't realize the restaurant wasn't open to the public.

"No," Sanji replied, sounding grumpy. "I didn't think he was going to show up."

"Oh, you know him?"

"He's my _favorite_ cousin."

Nami hurried downstairs, anxious to see this mysterious man. Getting Sanji to follow was near impossible. He moved at such a slow pace, Nami became annoyed with him. She had to grab his arm and pull him along. Even then he put up a resistance. She gave up and snapped, "What's the matter with you? You don't like your cousin?"

"I don't dislike him," Sanji said defensively. "It's just that...he's a...little weird."

"How weird can he be?"

When they reached the ground floor, Nami's mouth dropped. Tall wasn't an accurate description for the man. He was gigantic. He should have been in the Guinness World Records. She distinctly remembered the title of 'World's Tallest Man' went to somebody who lived in Turkey. Obviously they missed this man.

Blond and showing off a muscular torso, Sanji's cousin threw back his head and laughed when Patty told him he missed dinner. "But life is rosy!" he announced and then pulled out a mirror to fix his hair. Patty took one look at him and waved him off. No one else bothered to meet him.

Sanji's carefully neutral expression didn't change at all as he looked at his cousin. Instead he turned to go back upstairs. Nami gripped his arm like a vise, stopping him.

"What are you doing? I don't want to talk to him," Sanji hissed.

Nami elbowed him in the ribs. "Smile and be nice."

"Young Master! It's so wonderful to see you." He strolled over to them. Luckily for him, the ceiling in the restaurant were high enough to accommodate his extreme height. It was also convenient that they were still standing on the stairs. It made looking at him a lot easier.

"Hello," Sanji greeted curtly.

"And who is this vision of loveliness?" His attention immediately switched to Nami and before she knew it, he whipped out a red rose and presented it to her. Stunned, she was about to take the flower from him when he withdrew and stuck it behind his ear. He did take her hand and said passionately, "I am handsome."

Nami blanked for a second. Did she mishear him? "Excuse me?"

"Nami, this is my cousin, Duval," Sanji interrupted. "Duval, this is Nami, my...fiancée."

Duval gasped and placed both his hands over his chest, beaming at both of them. "Young Master has finally found true love! How rosy!"

"Yes, yes, yes! Everything is rosy." Sanji saw his father and seemed instantly relieved. Carne was helping him put on his jacket. "It's too bad you missed dinner, but it's getting late and we really have to go." He started shoving Nami towards the door. She, on the other hand, put up a struggle simply because she didn't have her jacket, her four-thousand-dollar jacket, which she wasn't about to leave behind.

Zeff stopped them. "Eggplant, I'm going to see their restaurants. It won't take long." He glanced at Duval, who was too busy looking at himself in the mirror. He shook his head and mumbled, "You stay here and keep your cousin company."

Sanji thought it over. "I'm coming with you!"

"Wait, what about me?" Nami squeaked nervously.

"You can stay here. You said you wanted to know my cousin. Here's your chance."

Nami might have stayed and hanged out with the cooks, and maybe played in their kitchen. They all seemed very friendly and nice and eager to be around her like they never seen a girl before. But Duval... He was very weird. While he was staring at himself in the mirror, he kept telling himself how handsome he was. It was also unnerving how freakishly big he was. He was twice the height of the tallest man here. He probably ran over people on a daily basis.

She didn't think she was brave enough to stay and pleaded to Sanji, "I want to go too."

He looked over at her and saw the desperation in her eyes. "All right. Get your jacket and let's go."

Not that it did them any good. Duval decided to tag along as well.

Patty brought the car up front and Zeff climbed in again. They were about to pile into the back when Ham pointed out something. "Are we all going to fit in there?"

Nami jerked and realized in addition to her and Sanji, Carne, Chuck and Ham were coming along too. Five people in the back of a compact car? It didn't seem possible.

Duval chuckled. "I'll be happy to give anyone a lift." He indicated to the back of seat of his giant motorbike.

No one volunteered to go with Duval.

"I have an extra helmet," Duval said melodiously. He then winked at Nami. At least she thought he was winking. His face suddenly twitched and contorted as it was in great pain.

This really scared Nami and she shot a frightened look at Sanji. He, in turn, said, "I'm not going to ride with him."

It was amazing what you could accomplish with the right motivation. Carne and Chuck were smashed against each other while Ham, the smallest out of all the men, had to squat in the center of the car. He folded his arms and legs so he could fit on the tiny space left on the car seat.

Nami, sitting sideways on Sanji's lap, had her arm around his neck. There wasn't much headspace so that meant leaning into him. Nami sucked in her breath when she realized she was close enough to smell him, which wasn't a bad smell, but all the same, she wished she wasn't crammed in like a sardine in a tin can.

Sanji struggled to find a place for his arm, but the arms belonging to Carne and Chuck had already taken the upper spots on the car seat. Sanji gave up and wrapped his arm around Nami's body.

The embrace startled Nami, but she kept her cool about it. "How far is the restaurant?" she asked nervously.

"Not far," Patty replied. "Only a few minutes."

Nami relaxed.

"And then my restaurant is next, Patty. Don't forget," Carne nagged.

"Be quiet. I got it, all right. The boss is going to see all of them."

Another restaurant? Nami panicked. How long will they be driving? "How many restaurants are we going to see?"

"Two restaurants," Zeff answered gruffly.

Nami relaxed again. That's not so bad. Hopefully the other restaurant will be just as close.

"Chuck runs a bar and Ham owns a delicatessen," he continued.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Two restaurants, a bar and a delicatessen. They were going to make four different stops. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. She was ready feeling a little claustrophobic and carsick. She should have stayed at Baratie. It was going to be a long night.


	23. Clean Laundry

Roommates

The memories of that night was torturous, mainly because Patty drove like a little old lady. Really, really slow. He said the trip to his restaurant would only take a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Nami. Admittedly, she could have been exaggerating the situation a tiny bit. It all could have been in her head.

How did Einstein phrase his theory of relativity? A hand on a hot stove for a minute feels like an hour. A pretty girl on your lap for an hour feels like a minute.

In her case, sitting on Sanji's lap felt like an hour. More than a few times the car swerved, knocking her into to Sanji. In one nail-biting moment, she was a hairsbreadth away from kissing him. She quickly adjusted her seating and looked straight ahead to watch the road. It meant Sanji had to deal with her hair in his face. Somehow he survived.

Patty's restaurant, it turned out, was a little dessert shop. This surprised Nami since she thought he was a sushi chef. A big tough gruff guy, she didn't think he was into making dainty pastries. He was kind enough to give her a little sample of his strawberry mousse cake. Duval, who followed happily after them on his motorbike, had no trouble fitting through the front door. A quick tour of place and back in the car.

Another supposed short ride in the car. Another near-miss with Sanji. Luckily, after Carne showed off his teppanyaki restaurant to Zeff, he caught a cab and went home. Yippee! More room in the car.

Chuck and Ham's respective bar and delicatessen were a complete blur to Nami. Shame on her, but there was only so many things Nami could process before her mind shutdown. She was on autopilot and she let Sanji lead her around like a mindless robot. She wanted to go home.

Finally done with a tearful good-bye to Zeff, they parted their separate ways. Even Duval gave Sanji a bear hug, lifting him off the ground. She stopped him from giving her one and had to settle for a handshake instead. Duval told Sanji to keep in touch. Sanji said nothing. Then Patty drove them back.

Nami was so happy to be home. Quickly she changed out of her clothes into the her pajamas. She didn't care if Sanji walked in on her or not. Though she was careful to put the Dior back on the hanger. She needed to figure out what to do with the outfit, but that was for another day. She was so ready for bed that she couldn't wait to brush her teeth and wash her face. Unlike the previous the night, she had no reservation and jumped into bed, rattling the headboard. Sanji, already in bed next to her, gave her a startled look before shutting off the light.

Sunday morning she skipped her jog. Not that it was something she did often on Sunday mornings, but she could have used it as an excuse to get out of the apartment if she wanted to.

Zeff was a very popular man. On Sunday, the day of rest, he was invited by many of his cohorts to meet their families. They planned a barbecue in the park. Thankfully, Nami was left off the hook for this event. She didn't think she could handle screaming kids and yapping dogs.

Dressed in a black three-piece suit, the perfect outfit for ultimate frisbee and flag football, Sanji carried a large ice chest. Apparently he had prepared raw marinated meat the day before. He said, "I left something in the fridge for you. Just heat it on the stove when you're hungry."

"Thanks."

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"I seem to be short on clothes at the moment," Nami said sarcastically, giving him a knowing look. Sanji only chuckled. "Besides, I want to catch up on some work."

"All right. We will be back before dinner."

Zeff and Sanji departed, leaving Nami alone. This gave her the perfect opportunity to thorough investigate her room and see what had been done to it, if anything. First, she thought it a good idea to change the sheets on the bed and take out the trash. She bought out the vacuum cleaner and went over the rug with it. There had to be an easier way to clean the floor. She couldn't believe how much hair there was. On a closer inspection, she noticed most of it was hers.

The sheets exchanged, the bed covers tucked in and the trash emptied. Nami took a seat and spun twice on her swivel chair. Her room looked fine. No signs that Zeff was making it his permanent room. His suitcases were out and open. He had used none of the drawers to hold his things. The closet only had his jacket hanging inside.

Bored, Nami thought it might not have been a bad idea if she had gone with them to the barbecue, but then she realized she wasn't Sanji's real fiancée so she shouldn't be participating with their family affair. The rest of the afternoon, she sketched on her desk, trying to get some work done. Instead she ended up doodling. At first, she wasn't sure what she was drawing. It looked like a random building she might have seen somewhere before. She continued her sketch until the shape of the building jogged her memory. It was the Baratie.

Nami stopped and stared. Why in the world did she draw that? Shaking her head, she tore the sheet out of her notepad and tossed the crumpled paper in the trash.

Wonderful Monday.

The weekend was over and it was time for work...again. It wouldn't have been such a hassle if Nami had something appropriate to wear. Somehow she didn't think her T-shirts with the word, EVIL or MACE, were good choices. She called in the office to say she was coming after lunch. Now it was a matter of collecting her clothes from the cleaner.

Sanji, in his trash cleaning mode, was busy. He was on his way to take the trash down to separate them. That always took a lot of time.

"Sanji, where's the slip? I'll get my clothes myself."

"Are you sure? You have a lot of clothes," he warned.

"I can handle it."

He shrugged. "It's in my wallet on the dresser. Just grab whatever cash you need to pay for it."

Nami wandered back to the bedroom and found his wallet. It was stuffed with a lot of different receipts. She sighed and began to go through them one by one. Why didn't he clean out his wallet sometimes? He didn't need to keep all of them like a pack rat. Suddenly one of the slip of paper caught her attention.

It was a Neiman Marcus receipt. She held it with both hands, her eyes scanning the lines for the price. She groaned. Not even a ten percent discount. Sanji was insane. Then an idea formed in her mind. First she peered out into the hallway. When the coast was clear, she sprinted back to his wallet and went through his credit cards until she found the one that matched the numbers on the receipt. She snagged it, wrapped the receipt around it and hid them both down her bra. After that, she went through the remaining receipts and found her dry cleaner slip.

Nami laced up her sneakers and grabbed her purse. She needed to hurry. Just as she reached the front door, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Zeff approaching her.

"Eggplant says you're getting your laundry. I'm coming with you."

"Oh! No, that's really not necessary."

He ignored her and proceeded to put on his jacket. It looked he wasn't going take no as an answer.

Quickly, and without a word, Nami left the apartment with Zeff in tow. It was exactly nerve-racking having him along, but she wasn't thrilled to pieces either. The address on the slip told her where to go. A short trip through the park and they were there.

A tiny shop with a cash register in the front and a turning carousel rack where the clothes hung in the back. The clerk took her slip and she paid for the fee. Luckily none of her clothes that Sanji stole needed any dry cleaning or else the cost would have been exorbitant. She rarely bought any clothes that required dry cleaning. The clerk went in the back room and returned with another fellow. They set on the counter three gigantic bags of folded clothes.

Her eyes widened and she grimaced. She guessed it was a good thing Zeff came along after all. She hefted one bag in her arms while Zeff took a hold of the other two. Halfway through the park, he changed direction and took another route. Nami wasn't sure what was going on, but decided to chase after him.

He stopped at an empty park bench and sat down, dropping the bags on the ground. He nodded at her to do the same thing.

Nami was confused and then it hit her. A man of his age, he must tire easily. She felt guilty having him lug all her laundry for her.

Quietly, she took a seat next to him and waited, her hands sandwiched between her legs. "Nice day," she said timidly.

Zeff didn't say anything and continued to watch the pigeons, his arms folded across his chest.

She didn't know how to break the uneasy silence when he spoke. And it was about something she least expected.

"You kids must think I'm biggest sucker in the world, if you think I fell for you two's act."

Stunned, Nami was speechless. She could feel the blood leave her face. What could he possibly talking about? Though deep down inside, she already knew the answer.

He snorted. "I've seen better acting on a reality show."

Nami opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn't know what to say. There was still that miniscule chance he could be talking about something else.

"Don't bother to cover it up anymore," Zeff reprimanded. "I've known for years what he is. Probably before he knew himself."

Finding her voice, she demanded, "If you knew, why didn't you say something to him about it?"

"I'm waiting to see if he has the guts to tell me himself!"

If he has the guts? That sounded like one of those man things she would never understand. Was it a matter of male pride? It was pointless. All those years, he could have saved Sanji from the torture and shame. She was about to argue with him when he stopped her.

"It's hard to understand until you have children of your own. To watch your only child drift further and further away from you, until you're almost like strangers." Zeff sighed heavily, sounding old and exhausted. His hands fell to his lap. "When he was small, he was a little brat, but he told me everything. His wild dreams, his crazy ideas. Most people laughed at him, but I listened because they were important to him. Because he is important to me."

Nami struggled. Her previous arguments vanished from her mind. "I'm sorry," she said softly. It was all that she could think of to say.

Another moment of silence.

"Don't tell him that I know. I know it sounds like a crazy request from an old man, but I want him to tell me."

She nodded in agreement.

Back in the apartment, after Nami unloaded her laundry, Zeff summoned her to his room. She walked in, unsure what to expect. It was one surprising revelation after another.

"This is really your room, isn't it? All these maps, they're yours, aren't they?" he pointed out.

Nami winced and then nodded. He figured out another lie. She could see it was hard to put anything pass this man.

Zeff squatted down in front of his suitcase, digging through his possessions. He stood up and handed her a package wrapped with brown paper. "Here, this is for you."

"For me? What for?" she asked.

"For taking care of my dumbass son. Anybody who would go through this much trouble for him, must be a good friend."

Three days passed since then, and they were back at the airport. For days she agonized over the promise she made with Zeff. It seemed to her, everyone could be so much happier if they were only a little more honest towards each other, but life was never that easy. Of course that didn't stop her from meddling any way she could.

"Hey, Sanji," Nami interrupted. "It's almost over. Aren't you relieve?"

"Hmm..." Sanji was distracted. He watched Zeff get in line to check-in at the ticket counter.

Nami swallowed, trying to work out how to nudge Sanji in the right direction without giving anything away. "Your father is an amazing man. His cooking, all those men he helped, the restaurant. Wouldn't you think he would be understanding?" She hesitated a bit. "Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea if you..."

By then Sanji was giving her a strange look. She shut her mouth.

Zeff received his boarding ticket and the flight was on time. They walked him to the security check point.

Nami gave Zeff a big hug, which she had no qualm giving. "It was nice to finally meet you. Please visit us again." And she meant every word of it.

Zeff grunted something indistinguishable, clearly uncomfortable by such a sentimental gesture. He nodded and headed the terminal gate.

Sanji, who remained relatively quiet throughout the whole exchange, just stood there. Nami elbowed him in the ribs. "Say something, you idiot," she hissed.

Finally he spoke up, "Hey, geezer! Don't catch a cold."

Nami wanted to groan out loud. Was that the best Sanji could come up with? But for some reason, when Zeff turned to look at them, he was smiling and teary-eyed. He waved at them and continued on through the gates.


	24. Rainy Tea

Roommates

It was a late Saturday morning. The weather had been rather indecisive lately. Sometimes the sun shined, sometimes the skies held a heavy layer of fog. After a quick bite in the kitchen, Nami returned to her room, intending to finish her mystery novel when she decided to do something different for a change.

Digging through her drawer, she found her old nail polish bottles. She had bought them throughout the years, most of them on a whim. She never really used most of them and they ended up disappearing in the dark corner of her dresser. It was time she did something with them and give her nails a good painting.

Carrying nail polish bottles, a nail file and a buffer, Nami went into the living room. There she found Sanji sitting on the couch, watching TV. She didn't expect him to see today. He usually took off to do his own thing before work.

"Do you mind if I did my nails out here?" she asked. She showed him her nail polish bottles. Sanji might not be so keen to the smell of lacquer. He only shrugged his shoulders, which she took as a sign he didn't care either way. With that settled, she set her things on the coffee table, sat down on the floor in front of the couch and started her work.

After trimming her cuticles, then filing and buffing her nails, she selected a color and started painting. The end results wasn't as spectacular as she had imagined. In fact, it was a little disappointing. Remembering the fantastic manicure she received at Vivi's wedding, she understood why some people paid a lot money to get their nails done by professionals. It was a lot meticulous work. Her painted nails were uneven with unsightly brush marks. She was also unable to paint the entire nail, missing the tiny crevices. Overall, it was pretty shoddy compare to what that young girl did at Vivi's mansion.

Fanning her hands to dry her nails, she wondered if it was worth the effort to try again. The main problem to that idea was that she didn't have any nail polish remover.

"Can I try that?"

Surprised, she glanced curiously at Sanji. She was only half-aware of what he was watching on television. He had been channel surfing most of time. "You want to paint your nails?" she uttered incredulously.

He frowned, his eyebrow raised at her. "No. Of course not. I'm talking about your nails."

Nami smirked. "If you want to paint my nails, it's too late. I'm already done." She wiggled her fingers at him.

"What about your toenails?" he suggested.

Nami peered down at her bare feet. She never painted her toenails before. Given that she wore sandals quite a bit, it was something she could have done, but never tried. She guessed there was no harm if she let him paint her toenails. He seemed very bored with the television. "You can if you want to."

Finding a good position, Nami sat on the couch beside him and laid her feet on his lap. Sanji didn't do the same things she did with her fingernails. He skipped trimming and filing and only buffed her toenails for a few minutes. When he was about to reach for one of the nail polish bottles, he asked, "What color?"

"Surprise me," she said, slightly amused.

"Then don't look."

"Don't look?" she repeated in confusion. It was an odd instruction. What was he planning to do to her toenails? "What am I suppose to look at?"

"Look at the television. Look at anything. I don't care what, but don't look at your feet."

Nami gave in. "Fine. Have it your way." She shifted her head to the television. It was showing a car commercial a the moment. Technically, Sanji only said not to look at her feet. It didn't mean she couldn't look at him. Though, she made sure to be as discreet as possible.

From the corner of eyes, she quietly observed him. Sanji leaned over her feet, his hair hung out to the point that she could almost see both his eyes. He held her foot with a gentle but firm grip and retrieved the nail polish brush from the coffee table. He was carefully and took his time. She was surprised to see how absorbed he was in painting her toenails.

The noise of the television distracted her and she put her full attention on it until she heard his voice again. "Done. You can look now."

Nami bent in her legs and stared at her toes. She was shocked and annoyed. Sanji had chosen a different color for each of her toenail. Oh sure, each toenail color mirrored the toenail color on the other foot so they matched, but five different colors? The colors ranged from dark red to bright pink.

Sanji grinned. "Do you like my work?"

"Great. Nice job," she mumbled. At least he managed to keep the polish smooth and even and he didn't miss any crevices like she did or paint on any part of her toes. "I have an idea. Let me do your toenails now."

"No," he answered quickly. To make his point clear, he lifted his feet onto the couch and sat cross-legged, hiding his precious feet from view.

Feeling a little grumpy, Nami collected her things and put them away in her room. She decided she was going out to buy a nail polish remover.

"I'm bored. Do you want to do something?" he brought up suddenly.

Nami blinked at him. "Don't you have work today?"

"Today is my free Saturday." From the puzzled look on her face, he explained further, "We rotate and take turns at the restaurant on who gets Saturdays off."

"Oh." She stopped and thought about his question. It wasn't the first time she went out with him. They went to a theater show, a dance club with Robin and even went clothes shopping once. Generally there was a specific reason for the outing. Now he was simply bored. "Sure, I have nothing to do. What do you have in mind?"

Sanji shrugged and slumped deeper into the couch. He appeared too exhausted to channel surf anymore.

"Want to go to the shopping mall? There's a big sale this weekend."

"Too crowded," he complained.

"How about a movie? We can catch a matinee."

"Nothing good out this week," he shot down.

"Do you want to window shop? They opened up a new clothing store down the street."

"It is a women's clothing store?"

"Yeah, it is."

"No," he rejected.

Nami glared at him. He was being lazy and difficult. She gave one last try. "How about the food market at the pier? They sell all kinds of fresh ingredients there." She had been there once and thought it more of a tourist trap, but Sanji would probably enjoy it. It was large and many small vendors gathered there to sell their products.

"I don't feel like cooking."

She groaned and threw her hands in the air. "I give up. Why don't you suggest something then, since all of my ideas aren't any good."

Unconcerned about her frustration, Sanji rolled his head to the side. He seemed like he was ignoring her until he finally said something. "Well, there is something I haven't done in a long time, but you wouldn't be interested."

"What? What is it?"

Nami stood still, trying hard not to fidget as Sanji looped the tie around her neck. Turning her head over her shoulder, she drew in her breath sharply. She was uneasy with his proximity to her. Sanji, on the other hand, didn't showed any sign he was aware of her discomfort; his concentration focused on tying her tie. He was dressed in his usual black double-breasted suit.

"There." He finished by straightening the knot and adjusting her shirt collar. "Looks good."

"Thanks," she muttered. She checked herself in the reflection and noted her charcoal-gray, long blazer and pencil skirt. It was her old interview outfit she had bought long ago when she finished college. Not that she wanted to wear it again. It was at Sanji's insistence that she dressed up for the occasion. He wanted her to wear something proper to drink tea in.

That's right, Sanji wanted to drink tea on his free Saturday. Drink tea of all things.

She thought tea drinking a strange, old fashion pastime. He could have stayed home and boiled himself a kettle of water and have all the tea he wanted. Who went out to drink tea in this day and age? But if she thought about it seriously, was it any different from going out to drink coffee?

And so she kept her opinion to herself, agreed to his idea and even got dressed. It was better than watching him mope around the living room.

The day looked promising and warm and so they rode the subway to downtown area. The tea house was located in the busy part of the business district. It was on the first floor of a high office building. It was modern and had large windows and a high ceiling. From the outside it looked like a regular shop that sold tea supplies. There were shelves of tin cans and little ceramic teapots and teacups displayed in the showcase. When they entered, Sanji indicated to the clerk that they were here to drink tea. The lady led them to a quiet, spacious room in the back. An elderly couple was seat by the window, chatting politely among themselves. Then Nami saw two foreign men, wearing jeans and short-sleeve shirts, sipping tea. She wanted to point them out to Sanji, but didn't bother. It shouldn't matter to her if they were the only overdressed people here drinking tea. Sanji was always overdressed.

The waitress seated them at a small table and left. Nami stared with bewilderment at the menu in her hands. They were each handed two different set of menus by the waitress and they were currently poring through the tea menu. "Choose for me," she told Sanji as she folded her menu.

"Are you sure you want me to?" he said teasingly.

Instantly she remembered the nail polish incident and thought better of it. She picked up the menu and looked at her choices again. The teas were organized by their origin of country. There were several countries listed: China, Japan, India, Great Britain, Africa and so on and each country had at least a dozen of their own teas. None of them she recognized. Who knew there were so many different kinds of tea?

Sanji made his choice and ordered an assortment of appetizers from the other menu. The waitress jotted it all down, retrieved the menus and then turned to get Nami's order.

Nami hesitated. She could just copy Sanji's choice, but she felt silly if she did that. She should be old enough to pick out what she wanted. But admittedly she needed help.

"What do you recommend?" she asked, ignoring Sanji's little snickers.

The waitress smiled. "They're all good."

Nami groaned inwardly. Like that was any help to her. She glanced down her menu. She should pick a country first and narrow down her selections. Great Britain seemed like a safe bet. "What about this one?" She pointed to one of the names listed under that country.

The waitress nodded. "That's a good choice."

Nami was relieved.

"But the one right underneath is pretty good too."

Oh, now she has an opinion. "So I should get that instead?"

"Oh no, your first choice is very good. I was just saying that's all."

"Oh. Okay then. So I'll take..."

"But if you want I can bring both of them out to you and you can smell them for yourself."

Smell them? People smell their tea before ordering? "Uh...sure, why not."

"Okay, I'll be right back with them." The waitress darted off.

Sanji stifled a laugh.

"Be quiet," Nami snarled at him.

The waitress returned with two tin cans. She opened one of them and Nami peered inside. It looked like a bunch of dried stuff. Maybe it was dried leaves, maybe it was dried grass. It could have been dirt for all she knew. She stuck her face to the tin can and sniffed. She didn't know how to describe the scent, but it was strong. The waitress opened up the next can and Nami sniffed that one too.

"So which one will it be?"

Nami pointed to the second can. "That one seemed okay." It didn't look like dirt to her.

"Excellent. I'll be back with your orders." The waitress left with the tin cans.

"That wasn't so hard," Sanji commented, smiling.

"I suppose." Nami shifted a little in her seat, unused to wearing a tight skirt. Then she unbuttoned her blazer and let it hang open. "I don't see why I had to dress up for this."

"But it's fun to dress up."

"Maybe for you," she retorted.

Moments later, the waitress came back carrying teacups, teapots, and spoons. She placed one set of them down in front of Nami. Nami couldn't help but stare. She touched a knitted material that fitted snugly over her teapot. "Is my teapot wearing a little sweater?"

"It's called a cozy," Sanji informed her. He poured from his teapot and sipped his teacup. "It keeps your teapot warm."

She grinned. "So it is like a little sweater. It's so cute."

Her tea was bitter and strong. She didn't think she wanted to continue drinking it and she wondered what she should do now. Noticing her apprehension, Sanji instructed her to add some milk and sugar. She did as she was told and found it acceptable.

Nami thought that was all there was to drinking tea, which didn't seem much to her. It was the same as drinking coffee with her old friends from college. Sip coffee, chat, gossip and then call it a day. She thought about holding her teacup with her little pinky pointing straight up, but that seemed a little silly to her. Then waitress brought out what Nami considered to be the best part about drinking tea.

It was a three-tier plate stand and there were all kinds of different munchies. The bottom plate had tiny sandwiches, the middle had freshly sliced fruits and the top held the dessert.

"Oh wow." Nami was impressed and she didn't know where to start.

Sanji was amused by her childish delight and let her have first pick. They started on the bottom and worked their way up. The salmon sandwich was yummy. The fruits were nothing extraordinary, but still good and sweet. The dessert plate had little pastries and tiny pieces of chocolate. She nibbled on the ones that looked appealing, and was mildly pleased. It wasn't until she bit down on a plain-looking biscuit was she blown away.

"Oh my god! This is really good." Warm and buttery, it was like nothing she had ever tasted before.

Sanji smirked. "Try it with some jam or cream cheese."

Nami dabbed both jam and cream cheese on it and the result was incredible. She greedily licked her fingers clean, looking for another one. There was still one more left on the dessert plate. She wondered how bad it would look if she grabbed the last one. She casually glanced over to Sanji, who was sipping his tea. Maybe she could nab it without him noticing. She needed a distraction.

"You want that last scone," he said knowingly. He didn't look up from his teacup.

So it was called a scone. She made sure to burn that name into her brain. "Oh no. I wasn't. I was just..."

Sanji gave her that look. "You can have it."

Caught in the lie, there was no fooling him. "If you don't mind."

"I insist."

Slowly Nami savored the last scone, taking smaller bites to make it last longer. The waitress returned with the check and Nami paid her share, leaving a nice tip for the waitress. It was a little pricy for a lunch, but she didn't mind. It was worth it for the new experience.

Outside, Sanji stood under the awning, staring unhappily at the dark sky. The weather had taken a sudden change and it was drizzling.

"I told you it was going to rain," Nami said smugly. To stick it further at him, she showed him the umbrella she bought along.

"But the weather forecast said it was going to be sunny for the rest of the day."

"Like they are ever right. Come on. We can share my umbrella." She popped her umbrella open and then linked arms with him drawing him close to her. He walked awkwardly with her for a bit before it became apparent the arrangement wasn't working too well.

"Let me hold that. You're too short." He took the umbrella from her grip and he held it for both of them.

They stopped at a busy intersection, waiting for the traffic light to change. They were on their way back to the subway station. Many of people, most of them without umbrellas, hurried passed them, trying hard to get out of the rain.

"That was fun," Nami spoke out loud. She kept her eyes on the ground as she cautiously stepped off the curb. "We should do that again."

"We can," he replied warmly.

"I think I want to try that other tea that waitress suggested."

"There are a lot of good tea to try."

Suddenly Sanji stopped moving. Nami looked up to see what was the matter. His face was drained like the light was doused out of him. "Sanji?"

He didn't reply. He stood frozen in time, staring off into the distance.

Nami turned to follow his gaze and saw a strange figure approaching them. He walked with a slouch to avoid the rain. He was tall and burly, his clothes damp from the weather, his hands buried inside his pockets. When he got close enough, she could make out the shocking green hair from underneath the hood of his sweatshirt.

The man halted a few feet away from them and lifted his head. A shy grin appeared. "It's nice to see you again," he said solemnly. "You look good."

It was deathly quiet. Only the pitter-patter of rain hitting the umbrella broke the silence. Sanji didn't acknowledge him and kept his mouth firmly shut.

The man eventually gave up and moved on, his head drooping again.

Nami watched him until he disappeared around the corner. Sanji never moved from his position and never turned to watch the strange man leave.

"Sanji? Who was he?" she asked.

"Let's go home."

The subway ride was distressful for Nami. Sanji didn't say anything to her and he kept zoning out. When they got back, he simply told her he wasn't feeling well and locked himself away in his room. She didn't see him again for the rest of the day.


	25. Chapter 25

Roommates

His name was Zoro. Not the same person as Zorro, the swashbuckling swordsman, who rescued the poor and outwitted the tyrannical officials during the early period of California. Costumed in all black, which seemed oddly familiar to Nami, Zorro was a magazine serial that started in 1919 and ended in 1959. Somewhat like Batman, he had a duel life that very few people knew about. His real identity was Don Diego de la Vega, a rich and well-respected nobleman. Several television shows and movies were made about him, though she had only seen black and white television show a few times as a kid.

Nami could continue and iterate all the fascinating facts about Zorro from the internet, an infinite source of news and information, but that would have been a waste of time. Annoyingly, there was absolutely nothing about Zoro, who she was concerned about. Zoro was a mystery. She should have known she couldn't get all her information from the internet.

From the phone conversation with Robin, Robin was surprised to hear he was back, but wouldn't spill anything more to her other than his name. She simply told Nami she had to ask Sanji herself.

Easier said than done, she thought. Nami had tried to coax Sanji out of his room the day before with no result. The morning proved no better.

Nami knocked lightly on his door, "Sanji, do you want any breakfast? I got cereal and...Pop Tarts." Not exactly the most enticing food, but it was all she had. She waited for a response and then spoke again. "If you want to talk about something, you know you can talk to me about it." She winced a second later. Not exactly subtle either.

No sound. She wondered if he had left his room without her knowing. Glancing down at her watch, she realized she was running late for work. She had better get going. Aside from offering sustenance and giving him words of encouragement, there was nothing more she could do for him. It was better to leave him alone and not pressure him. When he was ready to come out, he'll come out.

But still, there was no reason to believe he needed a shoulder to cry on. Men and women were wired differently. They had their own way of dealing with difficult situations. She wasn't sure what category gay men fell in, but maybe Sanji didn't do the talking-and-sharing thing. And if he did want to talk about it, he might not necessarily want to talk to her about it.

Nami left feeling depressed.

Work was unproductive. Nezumi was distracting, frustrating and so critical of her, pointing out her tardiness and mistakes. Hachi didn't improve the situation by adding another load of paper on her desk. She couldn't wait to get out of there. When lunch came, she bolted to the elevator, nearly knocking down Kuroobi along the way.

Instead of a trip to the cafeteria, Nami headed out of the office building and scoured the streets for a fast food restaurant. She made up her mind and was going home to try again. She knew Sanji didn't eat anything yesterday and she was pretty safe to assume he wasn't going to eat anything today. She needed something better to offer than cereal and Pop Tarts. What Sanji needed was some good comfort food.

Carrying two plastic bags of takeout, Nami hurried back to the apartment and laid them out neatly on the table, making sure the kitchen door was left wide open. She gave some time for the aroma to settle in. The tub of fried chicken smelled so good, she was very tempted to start eating herself. She had ordered every kind of fried chicken the restaurant had: plain, crispy, garlic, and spicy. And as an afterthought, had included a bowl of coleslaw and mashed potato in case he wanted some vegetable and also a box of warm buttermilk biscuits.

If she knew anything about men, they loved meat. Sanji shouldn't be an exception.

Quietly she walked towards his door. She was about to knock when she noticed the door was ajar. "Sanji, are you there? I bought some food. You wanna eat lunch with me?" Hearing nothing, she pushed the door open and peered inside. Dark and empty, Sanji was gone.

Nami frowned and closed his door. He must have left after she went to work. Disappointed, she bought lunch for nothing. Of course, it was unreasonable to think he would still be at home. There was nothing wrong with him. He just had an off day. Nothing traumatic. Maybe he went to work.

Then she heard a muffled thud emitting from her room.

Alarmed she cautiously headed there. Inside she found Sanji. Sitting in front of her bed, he had on the same clothes he wore Saturday minus his coat and shoes. His necktie loosened, his shirt untucked and his hair disheveled, he was a mess. Beside him was an empty bottle of vodka, lying carelessly on its side. He looked really, really sad.

"Sanji?"

Bleary-eyed, he lifted his head and grinned weakly at her, but didn't say anything. A moment later, his head fell back down again and he slumped lethargically against her bed. "What are you doing back home? Shouldn't you be at work?" he slurred.

"I-I was worried about you." She hesitated before continuing in a quiet voice. "You want to talk?"

He took a deep breath and sighed. "Pathetic. I'm pathetic."

"You're not pathetic," she said sternly. She moved over to where he was and sat down next to him so that their shoulders touched. "That man...Zoro...he was your..."

"My last roommate before you moved in," he finished soberly.

Stunned, Nami had expected him to be his boyfriend. She had no idea he use to live here. In her room no less, now that she thought about it. It never occurred to her to wonder if Sanji had previous roommates. Before she moved in, the room was unfurnished. There was no evidence to indicate anyone had lived here before her.

"The nerve of him. He thinks he can waltz up to me and act like nothing happened. He was always an inconsiderate jerk."

"So you two were-"

"A couple? Is that what Robin told you? You must have talked to Robin."

"She didn't tell me anything. Only his name."

Sanji twisted uneasily. "We fought all the time. Like cats and dogs. I don't understand how he ended up as my roommate in the first place."

"But...you two got together eventually, right?"

He nodded once and chuckled. "I guess it helped that he had a hot bod. He was such an exercise freak."

She giggled a little at that, but stayed serious. "So what happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

He raised his head and stared out the balcony window. "He had an accident."

Nami sucked in her breath real fast, but realized it wasn't that shocking. It was not like the man had an accident and died, because he was very much alive when she saw him last Saturday and healthy as well. So he didn't fall into a coma either. And it wasn't like people didn't have accidents. It would be extremely lucky if a person never had an accident in his or her entire life.

Noticing the look of confusion on her face, Sanji explained, "The accident messed up one his leg. He couldn't walk, not without a lot of pain."

A thought suddenly occurred to Nami. "Do you blame yourself for his accident? You shouldn't. After all it was...an accident."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It was nothing like that. It was after the accident, after he got out of the hospital, the problems began. He started drinking-"

"He hit you! He was abusive!" she interrupted. That scoundrel. If she ever saw that man again, she would give him such a tongue-lashing. Then Sanji gave her a flat look that told her it wasn't the case. "Sorry. Go on."

"I thought I could make things easier for him. I thought I could take care of him. But I made things worse for him." His gaze dropped, falling to his hands on his laps. "Our usual fights. They became bitter, resentful, spiteful. It was simpler to just leave him alone than to deal with him."

"Was it the pain? He had trouble adjusting? I hear that pain can change people."

He shrugged. "Maybe. It doesn't matter now. He's gone. Out of my life."

"I see. So it didn't work out so you broke up with him? You kicked him out then?"

"No," Sanji paused, wearing a doleful expression. "No, he left on his own. Packed up and took off right before the holidays."

"The holidays? He left you? That's so sweet of him," she said sarcastically. It wasn't the first time she heard of breakups occurring during the holidays. St. Valentine's Day was a popular choice. Either it was a cruel ironic joke or it was an unfathomable way to ease the pain. Nami was inclined to go with the former.

"How can anyone leave and disappear like that without saying a single word? No note. No phone call. Nothing." Sanji heaved heavily and dropped his head on her shoulder. "Did he hate me that much?"

Nami suddenly put her arm around him and quickly turned him towards her. Sanji wouldn't meet her eyes, so she cupped his chin and lifted it. "Listen to me, Sanji Kun. You are handsome, kind, funny, smart. You are a lovable guy. If he left you, that's his loss."

He turned his head away and laughed out loud. "Nice try. I almost believed you."

Annoyed, and perhaps a little pissed that he didn't believe her, Nami grabbed his head and yanked him to her. Then she covered his mouth with hers.

Sanji stiffened, but quickly relaxed as she clung to him. Nami pressed forward, deepening their kiss. His lips were deliciously soft with a hint of alcohol. His body heat, his smell, the way his hair brushed against her face, she didn't know it could be as good as this. It was way better than any of those dreams she had.

But as fast as it came, it ended, crashing down on her like a bucket of icy water. Sanji struggled against her and shoved her away. Nami fell back, breathless and dazed. She saw Sanji staring uncomfortably at her, looking disoriented. He blinked several times, his body wavering unsteadily.

Suddenly the full implication of what she did dawned on her. It hit her like a ton of brick. She opened her mouth to say something or anything. "Sanji-Sanji, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-."

At the sound of her voice, Sanji focused his gaze back to her. He seemed confused as if he was seeing her for the first time. "Nami?" He only uttered her name once before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed on the floor.

"Sanji!" Nami scrambled to her feet and raced to his side. She checked his pulse and breathing and found them normal. He was only passed out. Her head drooped down as she tried to calm her nerves. He gave her a good scare. Then she noticed the empty bottle of alcohol. She picked up the bottle to examine it. She suppose this was enough to knock him out. Sanji was never a heavy drinker.

Now what was she suppose to do? Lunch was over. She should get back to work. Not that she could concentrate after this mess. But then did she really want to stick around to see Sanji awake? No, definitely not. Her heart was beating so fast at the thought of that. How was she suppose to explain herself? She tripped and her mouth accidentally fell on his. She wanted to cry at the stupid excuse. What was she thinking? Why did she kiss him? She needed to relax, clear her head and think. Better do it at the office.

After making sure Sanji was in a comfortable position on the floor, she draped her bed comforter over him and shut her bedroom door.

Back at Arlong Park Inc, she couldn't concentrate. She certainly didn't get any work done. The best she could do was to look busy, staring at a piece of paper that she doodled on every so often. Nezumi had luckily disappeared to whatever thing he did.

Nami didn't know what to expect when she finally got home. She quietly closed the front door and headed to her room. The door was still closed so she carefully cracked it open to peep in. She didn't see Sanji. She walked in, looking for any sign of her roommate. The comforter was back on the bed and the bed was neatly made. She tried his room next and saw his door left ajar. He wasn't in there either.

The kitchen was her last stop after checking the bathroom and the living room. The takeout she left on the table was gone. She searched the refrigerator and found them packed away in her Tupperware. She noticed some portion of it missing. At least he ate some of it.

After snacking on the rest of the fried chicken, she went to bed. They weren't as good reheated in the microwave, but she was use eating like that. She washed up and changed her clothes and climbed into bed. She didn't know how long she laid in bed, waiting and listening. Was he coming home anytime soon? If he did come home, should she get up and greet him? And say what? Eventually she fell asleep and it was morning again.

Groggy, Nami wandered around her room, her mind still not fully awake. She managed to find her bathroom and rinsed out her mouth before heading to the kitchen. When she entered the kitchen, she almost dropped dead from the sudden fright.

"Good morning."

"Oh my god!" Nami stepped back and nearly tripped over the chair. "Don't do that! You scared me."

"Sorry. I made you breakfast," Sanji said. He indicated to the frying pan on the stove. "I hope you like Spanish omelette.

"Oh, that's nice of you," she replied, trying to slow her breathing. She was panting. She should have known he was cooking. Why didn't she notice the smell?

"I want to apologize."

"Huh?" Nami almost didn't hear him because she was panicking. The moment she was dreading was here. What was she going to say to him?

"For going into your room yesterday. I was shocked to find myself on the floor in your room," he continued while flipping the egg over in the pan. "I was quite inebriated and a little upset."

"That's all right. You were having a bad weekend and it's understandable." She waited and then asked hesitantly, "So is everything all right with you? Anything else on your mind you want to talk about?"

He grinned. "No, but I'm feeling much better today. Thanks for asking. I better take out the trash. I missed trash day yesterday." He took off his apron and set a plate of omelette on the table before he left the kitchen.

Nami could only gawk at the door he went through until she realized how late the time was. Then she sat down at the table and glanced at the omelette. It was expertly made.

Was it possible? Was there a benevolent God watching over her?

She started on her breakfast, feeling a little easier. The more she thought about it the more she was convinced. Sanji was too drunk to remember anything. She was off the hook!


	26. Chapter 26

Roommates

Nami reread her notes on the ongoing construction and found them lacking. Either there were errors that needed corrections or something was left out. The numbers didn't add up and the cost was high in her opinion. She was about to dial up the foreman of the Galley-La Company when she heard a high-pitched voice call her name.

"Nami-chin!"

She looked up to see Camie waving at her from across the room. Camie, a young energetic woman, was Hatchan's unofficial girlfriend. Unofficial in that only one of the party assumed they are dating, namely Hatchan. On one occasion, Nami overheard a conversation between her and Nezumi. It was more like Nezumi harassing her, but Camie was too nice and polite to blow him off. Anyways, he asked about their relationship and if they were dating. Camie suddenly became red in the face and quickly babbled that they weren't and they were only friends. Nezumi left laughing.

Nami was angry at Nezumi and felt bad for Hatchan. As far as she was concerned, it was nobody's business except Hatchan's and Camie's. No doubt Nezumi would try to rub it in, but that would be suicidal considering how much bigger Hatchan was compare to Nezumi.

Camie approached her desk waving a leaflet. Short-haired and slender, she was dressed in her mermaid costume that she wore for work. It was a pretty costume, which Camie had designed and sew up herself. Made of sequin and ruffled organdy, the long pink skirt was tight and it restricted her leg movement, but she managed to get around without any problem.

"What's up?" Nami asked. She set down the phone receiver. "Looking for Hatchan?"

"You have to come to the Mermaid Cafe." She showed her the leaflet, which turned out to be an advertisement. "The Soul King is playing this weekend!"

Nami hesitated. Camie had a habit of over-reacting over the simplest things. "The Soul King?" She did not recognize the name. He sounded like a blues musician.

"He's retired and hasn't performed in years, but he's coming to the Mermaid Cafe for a special performance! It's going to be a packed house! You should come and listen to him. He's amazing!"

"I don't know if I have the time," Nami lamented. She indicated to the pile of paper on her desk. "I'm going to be busy this weekend.

"It's a once in a lifetime event. You can't miss it."

Nami shrugged indifferently. "Honestly, I've never heard of him before. I wouldn't be missing anything if I didn't go."

"Please! You have to come," Camie shrieked. She gripped the edge of desk with both hands, her eyes looking huge and frantic.

Nami propped her head with her arm and gave her a flat look. "You have to sell the tickets, don't you?"

Camie let go and shamefully nodded her head.

In the end, Nami bought two tickets from Camie. Pity made her do it. If she had go, might as well drag Sanji along. It might do him some good. He had been in a rut since running into his ex, moody and quiet, despite claiming to be all right.

Now the trick was getting him to go. The performance was this Saturday. It meant he needed to play hooky. Easier said than done. It was rare for him to miss work. She couldn't just reason, beg, manipulate and threaten until she got what she wanted. She needed a good plan.

First, Nami should catch him at his weakest moment. That was usually when he got off from work. Tired, both physically and mentally, he was an easier target then. Next, she worked out the counterarguments for all the possible excuses he was going to use. Sanji wasn't going down without a fight. Like a man, he didn't like doing things he didn't want to do, even if it was good for him. Lastly, she made some phone calls. It couldn't hurt to recruit reinforcements and put them on standby just in case.

Back at home, Nami reheated leftover and ate dinner while watching television. Afterward, she picked out a novel and stayed in the living room. There was no way to tell when Sanji usually got home. She was always asleep by then.

Some time during the night, the front door opened and closed.

Nami's eyes winced under the bright light. She had dozed off and dropped her book to the floor. Groggy, she wondered where she was until she remembered the concert. She jumped off the sofa and hurried to the kitchen, hoping she hadn't missed her chance.

The kitchen light was on and as expected, Sanji was setting a kettle on the stove. He turned and seemed unconcerned at her appearance. "You're up late," he commented. His coat off and his sleeves rolled up, he was in the process of preparing something.

"Want to go with me to a concert this Saturday?" Nami blurted. Not the way she wanted to say it, but she was still disoriented. She was surprised she was speaking coherently.

"Huh?" He stopped and looked at her.

"At the Mermaid Cafe, the Soul King will be playing."

"Who?"

It was apparent Sanji never heard of him before either. Nami wondered kind of a concert Camie had talked her into. "Just go with me," she pleaded.

"This Saturday? Can't do it." He went back to his stove to check on the kettle.

Nami heaved a heavy groan. And so it begins, she thought. "Skip work."

"Why should I?"

"You owe me one."

He gave her a blank expression. "Owe you? How?"

Prepared with her answer, she said confidently. "I went with you to see Bon Kurei."

Sanji grimaced and pinched his forehead. "Please don't mention his name. I have to see another of his shitty recital this month."

"See! I should get extra points for attending that. This concert will probably be less painful."

Sanji's mouth hung open for a moment. "Don't forget, I went with you to your friend's wedding. That was longer."

"But you wanted to go to that!" Nami protested. "And you had fun."

"That shouldn't matter. You volunteered to go to Bentham's recital, despite my warning," he mumbled the last part under his breath.

She held her tongue. It was a clear draw. Time for another tactic. "I bought the tickets already."

"Then go with Robin."

"I already asked her. She's busy this weekend," she countered. She conferred with Robin and Usopp before hand and made sure they were unavailable.

"How about Brook? He's a music lover. I'm sure he'll enjoy it more than me."

"Brook?" The elderly gentleman that lived next door to them, she didn't think Sanji would suggest him as an alternative. Brook seemed like a nice man, but he was, well, not to be mean, but he was very old and a little eccentric. He occasionally knocked on their door to borrow things. Oftentimes during those visits she had a strange vibe like he wanted something from her. Besides those weird moments, the kookiest thing he did was talk to his goldfish, Laboon, like it was a real person. "I don't know him that well," she said slowly.

Sanji thought for a moment and nodded once. Even he had to concede that Brook wasn't the best choice. "If you're not comfortable with him, how about Conis? She's a nice girl. She can go with you."

Conis, another neighbor Nami was not very familiar with. They exchanged a few words now and then in the hallway, but they were not close. The only common interest they shared was their fierce dislike of their other neighbor, Enel.

"What's the matter? You don't like her?"

"No." She shook her head. "It's not that. It's just that..." she trailed unable to say how she really felt. Sanji made excuses like she thought he would, because he was stubborn, but she didn't think he was going to be that difficult. Now he was suggesting she go with people she barely knew, which was the last thing she wanted to do. She rather give the tickets away than do that.

"I'm sure you can find someone. You still have time," he murmured distractedly.

Nami watched him. His back turned to her, his attention focused on his cooking preparation. Sanji was busy, uninterested and obviously ignoring her. How did it end up like this? She thought she could convince him. It was a stupid plan. Now she was left feeling foolish and miserable. She only wanted to drop the whole thing and go to bed. "Never mind," she grumbled. "I'll figure something out. Forget that I asked you. Good-night."

Sanji was fast. "Wait, what's wrong?" he gently grabbed her hand as she walked away. "What's with that tone?"

Nami looked away and sighed. She wondered if she should make something up to end the conversation or just say what was on her mind. She took a deep breath and decided on the latter. "I wanted you to go with me," she pouted.

There was a long uncomfortable silence as he considered her. "Nami," he said soberly, his shoulders sagging. "I really don't feel like going."

"It won't kill you to have a little fun. You've been moping around doing nothing for weeks."

Sanji blinked in surprise and then he dropped his gaze in chagrin. She waited anxiously for his next response.

Nami spent the morning and afternoon at the office. Not where she wanted to be on a Saturday, but she wanted to finish her report.

It was difficult to admit to herself, but she was excited. Not over the concert, but that she managed to convince Sanji to go with her. After a little more coaxing, he relinquished and agreed to go. She was beyond delighted. Even heading to work didn't diminish her good mood.

As soon as she got home, she showered and dove into her closet searching for something to wear. Why did it seem like, despite how much clothes she owed, there was nothing to wear? She finally settled on a turtle-neck sweater and jeans, simply because the weather was chilly lately.

Happy with her outfit, she wandered out to the living room and saw that Sanji was already waiting for her. Seated on the couch, he was dressed in purple. A very bold color choice for him. A bold choice for any man.

Sanji saw her expression and simply told her, "No black today."

"Looks good," she returned and smiled.

Camie had told her to come early to grab a good table. From the address that was printed on the leaflet, Mermaid Cafe was in the Coral Hill distinct. It took some time to get there by subway, requiring a couple of transfers to different lines. By the time they got there, it was almost evening.

Sanji walked at a snail's pace, calmly puffing his cigarette and taking in the sights. He glanced up at Mermaid Cafe, eyeing the funny fish and seashell decoration.

"Hurry," Nami urged. She could see a small group of people gathering at the front. "We need to find a table before it's too late."

He threw her a sideways glance, clearly unimpressed. "You bought me here?"

Nami snapped, "Don't criticize when you use to work at restaurant with giant fish head for an entrance." She was almost on the verge of pushing Sanji from behind. Instead she manhandled him through the crowd. He barely had any time to stomp out his cigarette. "Let's just find a table first and then you can complain all you want."

Inside, the decor was even more cheesier than the outside. The walls were draped with some type of material that was suppose to imitate seaweed or algae. Fishing nets hung from the ceiling along with an assortment of colorful marine animals. The chairs were shaped like giant clam shells and the tables were sand dollars. Expecting some kind of Jamaican music in the background, Nami was relieved to hear only jazz. Like the name implied there were lots of mermaids, or women dressed up like mermaids.

A busty woman wearing a purple bikini top and a light blue fishtail greeted them. "Welcome to Mermaid Cafe." She smiled brightly at Sanji and then giggled behind the menus she was holding.

Sanji gave her a weak half-smile, but that didn't seem to discourage her.

"We have a special event going on tonight so it will be a while before we have a table ready for you." She lightly touched his arm and winked secretly. "But I'll fix you up in a jiffy."

"Camie told me to mention her name," Nami interrupted, getting impatient.

"Oh." The waitress was surprised to see her. "You're Camie's friend? We have a table ready for you! Come this way."

After they got settled in, she left them with the drink menus and took off. Nami picked out something strong, folded her menu and waited. Sanji was still looking when a different mermaid appeared.

"Hey, good-looking. My name is Ishilly. I'll be your server for tonight." The new waitress beamed at Sanji. Her mermaid tail costume was striped black and white and she also wore a revealing bikini top. It seemed to be the normal attire for most of the mermaids here.

"I'll have the Armada Martini," Nami cut in and she immediately handed the menu back.

A bit taken back, Ishilly retrieved the menu and turned to Sanji. "How about you, sir?"

Flipping through the pages, he finally made his choice. "I think I will try...Sex with the Captain," he replied slowly. He grinned at Ishilly.

She giggled and jotted down his order. "Good choice. It's our most popular drink. I'll be right back with your orders."

"Give me that menu." Nami snatched his drink menu and went down the list. "Is there really a drink called that?" Sure enough, she found the drink in question. It was made of rum and a lot of different fruit juices.

"With a name like that, you know I have to try it."

She shook her head and stifled a laugh.

The alcohol came in no time and put them in a relaxing mood. They soon made their order for dinner, an ocean-themed of shijimi clam pizza and mozuku seaweed tarts.

Nami leaned back and smirked as she sipped her martini. "So how is your Sex with the Captain?"

"Disappointing," he lamented. He had drained the glass, leaving behind tiny shards of ice. "They always sound better than what they really are."

"Here, try mine." She passed him her drink and he accepted with a quick look at the glass. "Go on. Finish it."

He hesitated and then downed the remaining martini in one move.

"You like it?"

He simply nodded his head and smiled. She waved down another server to order more drinks.

"Admit it. It's not bad here. The decor is a little corny, but it works."

"I suppose," he conceded. "If they added a few mermen, I'll be happy. Buff ones with rippling muscles."

Nami chuckled. "I'll be sure to pass that along to Camie." Speaking of Camie, she wondered where she was. Several mermaids glided by their table, but no sign of Camie.

"But the mermaids are cute. I like their costumes."

"Their costumes are nice," Nami agreed. She noticed all the mermaid costumes were different. Each matched the person who wore them. No two mermaid tails had the same color or design.

"Ishilly is very pretty," Sanji continued. "I wouldn't mind asking her out. If I was straight."

Nami stopped and sat up straight in her seat. She turned to stare at him, but he was too busy looking at something else. His eyes floated aimlessly around the room.

Ishilly bought dinner and more drinks and all through the meal, Nami agonized over that off-handed comment. She kept telling herself it was just an idle chat. It had no meaning whatsoever, but the more she tried to reason it away, the worst it became. And even though she tried not to pay any attention to Ishilly, she couldn't help but scrutinize her appearance.

Sanji was wrong. Ishilly wasn't very pretty. She was drop-dead gorgeous.

A body to die for, Ishilly had a lithe curvy figure, which she wasn't afraid to show off in her form-fitting costume. Her wavy black hair was tied up so adorably into two high pigtails, making her look youthful and vibrant. She did have a few freckles on her cheeks, which Nami guessed some men might find attractive. And of her personality, she was playful and friendly towards Sanji and always had a big smile on her face. What man wouldn't be amazed by her.

Nami felt like a scrawny boy compared to Ishilly. Her short hair and her preference for loose and comfortable clothing. And her chest. There was no contest, like melons to apples.

"Finally, the show is about to start," Sanji stated. He pointed to the center of the room.

Brought out of her dreary contemplation, Nami looked to the stage. The lights in the dining room had dimmed and there was a definite feeling of anticipation. She had almost forgot about the main reason she was here.

It took the Soul King long enough! They spent so much money on food and drinks. It had better be a good performance.

The room suddenly became pitch black until a spotlight shone on a tall lone man. Nami saw only his back, but she could make out his flowery pink trouser and yellow feather boa. His crown-shaped hat was ridiculous huge.

"Come on, baby!" he shrieked. He strummed his electric guitar and spun around to face the audience. The crowd went wild, screaming his name over and over.

Nami's eyes widened as she gaped at the Soul King. "Oh my god! Is that who I think that is?" She had to shout in order to be heard, but Sanji understood her all the same.

Sanji only shook his head in amazement.

"That's Brook!?" Nami stood up to get a better view and saw that it was Brook, their next door neighbor, the one who often dropped by to borrow sugar and cream for his tea. She had heard him play classical pieces on his violin and piano. Now he was windmilling an electric guitar. She couldn't believe the way he was playing that guitar. He tossed his guitar in the air and caught it on the same chord he was playing before. Then he jumped into the air and landed on his knees with the mic in his hand. Next he started playing it behind his back while hopping backwards on stage. He had so much energy. "How-how old is he?"

"I think he's 90-years old."

"Wow," Nami mouthed unbelievably. Never again did she ever think of Brook as old.

The performance ended with a burst of fireworks and his fans flinging underwear at him. That last part Nami didn't understand, but that didn't stop her from applauding.


	27. Chapter 27

Roommates

Of course, Nami knew Sanji was a chef. It was one of the few tidbit of information they exchanged when they first met. After that she never bothered to ask anything more about his work. The subject of work was rarely an interesting topic, including hers.

One day it suddenly occurred to her she had no idea where he work, what kind of restaurant he worked at, or even the name of his restaurant. For all she knew, he could have been working at In-N-Out, flipping burgers and frying fries.

On the other hand, Sanji knew where she worked, visited her office more than a few times and even knew the names of some of her co-workers. She felt like a bad roommate.

When Nami decided to rectify that situation, she had trouble getting a straight answer from him.

"Why won't you tell me the name of your restaurant? What's the big secret?"

"I did tell you name of my restaurant," he said with a smirk. He was busy scrapping the scales off a large salmon fish. The odor and the bloody messy made Nami anxious to get out of the kitchen as soon as possible.

"The Shitty Restaurant?" she exclaimed. "You actually expect me to believe that's the name?"

"Believe me or not, but that's what it's called."

"That's not a name. What kind of restaurant calls itself the Shitty Restaurant?"

"A three-star Michelin restaurant." Sanji smiled and ended the conversation at that which left Nami fuming with frustration.

It wasn't until a few days later did she bother to search the name online and discovered he wasn't joking. There was a gourmet restaurant called the Shitty Restaurant. From what she read on the website, it served a ten-course menu, which bragged of not using the same ingredient twice. Incredibly, the reservation had to be made two months in advance.

"No discount," Sanji said flat out. He was busy chopping onions and slicing mushrooms for a morning omelette. "And there's no way around the reservation. You just have to wait like everyone else."

"Really?" Nami was horrified. At $300 per person, it was no chump change to throw away. "You don't get an employee discount?"

Sanji shook his head in exasperation and said, "No, Nami. There are no discounts where I work."

Nami blew sharply at a strand of hair in her face. That was a roadblock if she ever saw one. She had to really consider if she wanted to dine there or not. Evidently gourmet meals don't come cheap.

"Anyways, why do you want to eat there?" he asked.

"I thought it would be fun to try."

"Fun?" His eyebrow raised, he said it in such a way that made her rethink her idea.

"Just once," she said meekly.

Sanji shrugged his shoulders. "If you want to do something fun, Robin wants to go clubbing again."

"Oh?" She hadn't seen or heard from Robin in a while. She was more Sanji's friend than hers, but they did occasionally go out for coffee whenever their schedule allowed it. "Sure. I'm up for clubbing. It was fun last time we went." Except for that little mess near the end, which she didn't dare mention to him.

"Then next Friday is all right with you?"

Nami nodded. "Yeah. That works."

Friday came faster than she expected and she had almost forgotten about the plan until she glanced at her calendar. Immediately Nami saved the file she was working on and shut off her computer. Rushing home, she showered and changed her clothes.

They met at a diner for a quick meal. Afterward, at Nami's insistence, they headed to the Body Shop. She hadn't forgotten the name or Sanji's disappointment of not being able to go there.

Nami didn't know what to expect, but assumed there would be more men there compared to Mirrorball. She wasn't wrong in her assumption. The dance club was packed with men. Lots of gorgeous men. Even she, in her limited interest, had to appreciate all the well-dressed, good-looking men. Sanji was obviously in heaven. His head was whirling left and right as they searched for an empty table.

"I think I see one over there," Robin shouted and indicated to the back of the room. They shoved their way through the crowd. Snagging an extra chair for the table, they settled down.

"I'll get us some drinks. You want the usual?" Sanji left for the bar.

"This place doesn't see so bad." Nami removed her coat and draped it on the back of the chair. She looked around. The club was smaller than Mirrorball, but the music was much louder. She watched as men came and left the dance floor.

Robin, wearing a lovely turquoise dress with long sleeves, put away her tinted glasses in her purse. "It has been a long time since we last went out." Suddenly she reached out, took her hand and squeezed it. "How are you? How is Sanji? After our last phone conversation, I was worried."

Startled, Nami struggled for a moment and then put on a bright face. "Everything is fine now. Sanji is back to his old self." The phone conversation Robin was referring to was the one she made weeks ago. The one about Zoro. Admittedly, she might have sound a little panicky when she made the call, but Robin put her at ease and told her to be patience and understanding. At the end, Nami promised to phone her back with any update, but like a careless person, she forgot.

"That business with Zoro was hard on him. After he left, Sanji became withdrawn, isolated," Robin explained. She brushed her hair back, checking to see where Sanji was. "He wouldn't leave the apartment except to go to work. It took a considerable amount of effort to get him to come with me to Bon Kurei's recitals."

Nami scrunched her face at that. "To tell you the truth, Sanji doesn't like going to those in the first place. He doesn't seem to like Bon Kurei."

Robin smiled and chuckled. "Probably not."

After a round of drinks, Sanji took turns dancing with Nami and Robin. Later Robin sought out other dance partners on her own. Nami didn't think she had the nerve to ask random strangers to dance, despite Robin's reassurance that it was okay. And so she ended up sitting and being a wallflower most of the night.

From time to time, Nami caught sight of Robin on the dance floor, but Sanji was more elusive. She wondered where he had gone to. She wanted another drink, but leaving the table was out of the question since she was babysitting their belongings.

With perfect timing, he appeared with two drinks in his hands and a huge grin on his face. He dropped into the seat, looking rather excited.

Nami looked up and took a drink from him. "Having fun?"

"Don't look, but check out the guy at the bar."

She began to turn to direction of the bar only be stopped midway by Sanji.

"I said don't look!"

"How am I suppose to check him out if I don't look," she argued.

"Do it more casually then."

She huffed and tried to act like she was leaning back in her chair, which didn't look natural at all. "Which one?" Annoyed, she didn't know which man Sanji was talking about. There were a lot of men at the bar.

"The guy wearing a cap."

She went down the bar counter until she found a guy wearing a white cap. Again she did not understand Sanji's taste in men. He was lanky and scruffy-looking. Nothing impressive. His clothes were ordinary, a yellow T-shirt and torn jeans. He appeared to be sitting alone and brooding over something.

"Do you think I should go talk to him?" he asked uneasily.

"I don't know. You decide for yourself."

"He's looking this way."

Now Nami had a better a view of him. He had turned from the counter to survey the room. Dark hair with a goatee, he caught sight of them watching him and he grinned.

"I'm going to talk to him," Sanji announced. He fixed his tie and straightened his coat. "How do I look?"

"Go already!" Nami barked. She gave him a little kick under the table.

Sanji picked up his drink, got up and wandered over to the bar. They met and spoke. Sanji looked nervous, but took a seat next to him. Nami felt weird. She didn't know if she should be spying on Sanji, but she couldn't help herself and looked every so often. They talked for a long time.

Robin returned, exhausted and hot. She sat down, tying her hair back. "Where is Sanji?"

"By the bar." Nami sipped her drink.

Robin stretched her neck to look. "I see."

"They've been talking for a while," she added indifferently.

"They appeared to be done."

"They are?" Nami turned and saw Sanji hurrying back. The guy was still seated at the bar.

The moment Sanji got back to the table, he blurted out excitedly, "He says he's a surgeon."

"A surgeon?" Nami exclaimed skeptically. She took another look at him and frowned. With all the body piercings and tattoos the man had, she highly doubted it. But seeing how happy Sanji was, she didn't have the heart to argue against the possibility. The guy could have told him he was the captain of a submarine, Sanji would have still believed him.

"He says there's another club we should check out. The Moby Dick. Do you want to go? It's bigger and better than this place."

Nami hesitated. "I'm too tired. I don't think I can handle another club."

Sanji couldn't hide the look of disappointment on his face.

Robin gave a slight nod. "It's fine. Go on without us. We will catch a cab home."

"You don't mind?" Sanji asked anxiously, glancing back to the guy. The supposed surgeon lifted a drink at them as he watched from afar.

Nami offered up a tight-lipped smile to him. "Just go. Enjoy yourself. We'll be all right."

With a little reluctance, Sanji waved them off and headed back to the bar. Nami stood upright and started collecting her belongings. "Are you ready?"

Robin finished her drink and followed her example.

The table was immediately claimed by another group. Robin pushed through the crowd again, her hand holding onto Nami's. On an impulse, she took one last look back, but Sanji was gone by then.

Nami and Robin stepped out into the cool night air. The sky was clear and filled with the bright city lights. They walked quietly for a few minutes as they made their way back to the main street.

Nami tightly wrapped her coat around her. "Do you think Sanji will be all right? That guy seemed a little shady to me. Do you think he was really a surgeon?"

"I wouldn't be concerned. Sanji has always been a good judge of character."

"Hmm," she murmured softly to herself. She wasn't so sure, but didn't have anything else to add to her suspicion. Her eyes wandered to the store windows, trying to find another topic to work into the conversation when Robin suddenly spoke up.

"Nami, do you like Sanji?"

She stopped, confused by the question. Then her heart started beating frantically. "Well, I...I...what?" Her cheeks warmed despite the chilly temperature.

Robin, ever so calm, looked at her and repeated herself. "Do you like Sanji?"

Nami floundered, trying very hard to avoid Robin's gaze. "Of course I like him. I mean, he's my roommate. He can be a dummy sometimes, but how can anyone not like him." The second the words left her mouth, she knew her answer sounded weak. She wasn't fooling anyone, including herself.

Robin didn't say anything, but tilted her head to the side. The silence seemed unbearable.

"Is it that obvious?" Nami uttered solemnly, staring down at her high heel shoes. Her feet, especially her toes, felt numb and cold. She didn't understand it herself, but she wanted to laugh and cry.

"I know a wonderful cafe not far from here. Would you care for a cup of coffee?"

Nami looked up and was met with kind and sympathetic eyes. "That sounds good."

Spiders Cafe was small and quaint with cute wrought iron chairs and tables on the outside. On the inside, the shop was warm and bright and a delicious aroma of coffee wafted in the air. Even at late the hour, there were still patrons seated. Most appeared to be students with their laptops and textbooks. Robin scouted a private table in the back corner.

Nami sat back in the chair. "No dessert and decaf please. I want to go straight to bed after this."

Robin nodded and motioned for waitress. A tall skinny woman approached, carrying a notepad and a salver. "Two decaf coffees, Paula."

"Coming right up, Robin. Anything else?"

"No. That's all for now."

When the waitress left to fetch their coffee, Nami leaned forward a bit. "Do you come here often?" She noted they were on a first name basis.

"Actually I am a co-owner. There are several of us. Paula, Mary, Goldie, Valerie and me. Paula is in charge and manages the cafe. The others pitch in whenever they can."

"Wow, that sounds like cool," Nami piped in. The idea of running a small shop like this was charming. Way better than grinding the mill at her office where there was nothing but reports, deadlines, and meetings. "You're all friends then?"

"More like former coworkers. Our place of employment went through an unfortunate downsize. Instead of parting ways, we all chipped in and bought this place."

"That's amazing. What do you do here?"

Robin smirked. "I get free coffee."

Nami turned down the offer of dessert, even with Robin saying it was on the house. The conversation halted when Paula returned with their coffee. Nami stared at her cup and then at her hands. She stirred in some sugar, but didn't drink her coffee.

"Gay men are the worst, aren't they," she broke in. "They're almost like your girl friends except they still have the bad behaviors of men." She laughed weakly at her own joke and then shut her mouth.

Robin chuckled as she sipped her coffee. "There is a truth to that."

It became quiet and uncomfortable. "I feel stupid," she lamented suddenly.

"Don't." Robin set down her cup and sat up straight. "You mustn't feel that way. Emotions are difficult to navigate, especially the ones concerning the heart."

Nami hesitated, debating internally. "You've known Sanji for a long time. Has he...has he never shown any interest in women?"

Robin pressed her lips into a thin line and slowly shook her head.

Nami hung her head. Not that she expected much. A silly wishful thinking. She lifted her head and put on a bright face. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter." She glanced down at her coffee and then lifted the spoon from the cup. "It's not like he was my type."

"Your type? Is there such a thing as a type?"

"Well...I don't know. He's too nice. He's too generous sometimes. He's got to stop and feed you even if you say you're only a little hungry. Then he's picky about his kitchen. I swear he doesn't like anyone using it except him, but he doesn't mind if you leave a mess as long as you eat everything. And I mean everything. He's so obsessive with that. Also it takes him forever to get ready. Always have to be neat dresser, no matter what the occasion is, even to the grocery store. He drives me crazy." She held her breath for a second, her eyes becoming moist for some reason. "Oh god," she whispered. "I can't stop thinking about him. What am I going to do?"

"Tell him. Tell him how you feel."

Nami became horrified. "I can't do that."

"Then don't tell him and hide it from him. There is only two options for you."

She mulled over her words until she thought of something. "Please don't tell him any of this," she blurted out. "There would be no point to it."

"Of course. This conversation never happened." Robin picked up her coffee and took another sip. "I know it's of little consolation to you, but it will get better. You won't always feel like this."

Her shoulders slumped. Not exactly the pep talk she was hoping for, but somehow it felt easier. Nami reached down and finally drank her coffee. "Life is strange. Weird. How does a person become attracted to one gender over the other? Men and women, aren't we all people?"

Robin considered her for a moment. "Or you can ask yourself, why does one person identify with one gender over the other. It just is. It's all about feelings and emotions. It can't be rationalized."

Nami paused, wondering what Robin meant by that and then she realized. Sometimes she forget about Robin's situation. It never crossed her mind because she always known her as a woman. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why did you...change yourself?"

The older woman was subdue and strangely at ease as she thought over her answer. "Sometimes it doesn't make sense why we feel the way we do. Emotions are hard to understand. All we can do is endure." She picked up her cup and started swirling the coffee. "For a very long time, I was confused and depressed. I went through years of counseling. Not even my mother knew of it. I was having an identity crisis."

"Identity crisis? Over your gender?"

Robin nodded.

Nami couldn't began to understand. Robin, who was once man, had an identity crisis over her gender. She tried to analyze what it was that made her female. Biologically and socially, men and women were different. That was apparent. Psychologically was there a difference? Men and women do think and behave differently. But did psychological aspect develop from biology or social environment? Argh! Too hard to figure out, it made her head spin thinking about it.

Then Nami thought, what if she was suddenly thrust into man's body. How would she react? How would she feel? She immediately pushed the scenario out of her mind. She didn't want to be a man. She liked who she was. "So how do you feel now?"

Robin smiled and said simply, "Happy."


	28. Chapter 28

Roommates

On Saturday morning, Nami woke up, showered and brewed herself a pot of coffee. She sat down at the kitchen table, intending to read yesterday's newspaper. She didn't hear or see any signs of Sanji. She wondered if he was sleeping in or if he even came back home.

On her second cup of coffee, she heard noises of someone scraping and shuffling at the front door. The door opened and closed and soon a bright-eyed Sanji waltzed into the kitchen. His hair was a little mussy, his shirt and tie undone, his coat was off and slung over his shoulder. He gave her a silly smile the moment he saw her.

"Good morning," Nami said indifferently and took a sip from her cup.

"You should have came. You and Robin should have came. The Moby Dick was..." He couldn't find the right word and so left the sentence hanging. Not that he stopped there. He went on and on about all the gorgeous men there. How abundant and diverse they were. The fireman with the cute freckles. The polo player from Phoenix. Nami listened with a mild amusement as he prattled. It wasn't until he got to what happened after he left Moby Dick, did she put her foot down and stopped him.

"No! That's too much information. I don't want to know!" Nami shook her head. She set her cup down and covered her ears with her hands. Of course that never worked.

"Just listen to me," Sanji insisted. He sat down across from her, straddling the chair with the back facing her.

"NO!" Nami said vehemently.

"Hear me out."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. Her hands fell to her lap in resignation.

He took it as a sign to proceed. "The surgeon, we went back to his place and things are going real good. We're necking. He's undressing me, I'm undressing him. And you know what he suddenly asked me."

Nami gave him a flat stare and tilted her head to the side. Like she wanted to answer him.

Sanji waited and said incredulously, "He asked me to spank him."

It took a few seconds for her to react. Then she choked back a laugh. "Really?"

He nodded.

She grinned and asked slyly, "What did you do?"

He lifted his hands out and shrugged. "What can I do? I spanked him."

"You did?" She didn't know what else to say. Right then, she was desperately trying not to visualize that scenario. She failed.

"Frankly, I don't understand the appeal," he continued. He got up to get a bottle of ginger ale from the refrigerator and returned. "After that things got a little weird. You know, he's got this huge collection of white teddy bears."

"Oh, how interesting." Nami went back to her newspaper. The conversation halted a moment. She heard him open the bottle and take a sip. Slowly she lowered her paper to peer at him. "So are you going to see him again?"

He opened his mouth, made a face and then shook his head. "Probably not." He leaned in closer and whispered to her. "I don't think he was a surgeon."

"I don't think he was either," she agreed.

Tired, Sanji left the kitchen and wandered back to his room. When she was certain he wasn't coming back anytime soon, she put down her paper and started picking at her nails. It was a nervous habit she had.

That encounter was a mixture of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she wanted Sanji to be happy, on the other hand, she was miserable if he was. Secretly she was relieved to hear he wasn't interested in the surgeon. Did that make her a horrible person?

Her head fell flat on the table and she moaned softly to herself. Why won't the feelings go away? Logically, there was no point to having a crush on Sanji. It wasn't going to lead anywhere. Only disappointment and humiliation. What was she suppose to do?

Nami lost all interest in the newspaper and she headed back to her room to hide in her bed. She planned to sleep away her trouble, if that was possible. Then she noticed her cell phone blinking. She flipped it open and saw that she missed a call from Kuroobi. She ignored it. She wasn't in the mood to babysit any worries for him. It was the weekend.

Nami was about to toss her phone back on her desk, when it beeped at her. This time it was a text message from Hatchi. She warned him about texting her. Only in dire situations may he text her. Anything else, she charged him 20 cent per text. Frowning, she read the following message:

NAMI! EMERGENCY! TROUBLE AT ARLONG PARK!

Now what? What's going on? It sounded serious. She tried phoning Kuroobi and Hatchi, but couldn't reach either of them. Next she tried phoning the building security with no luck. Frustrated, she wanted to scream. Why was everything falling on her? Getting dressed, she grabbed her purse and raced out the apartment.

Unbelievably the bus ride took forever. The unexpected traffic was unusual given it was the weekend. When the bus neared the vicinity of her office building, she got off and continued on foot. It made more sense to walk instead of riding it all the way there.

Jogging at a brisk pace, she passed several pedestrians, most who were talking and loitering. To say it was busy, was putting it mildly. When she reached her building, she halted and stared at the scene before her. A squad of patrol cars and police officers crowded the front entrance, as well a few people dressed entirely in black. They wore jerseys with the letters FBI printed on the back.

"Ohmigod!" Nami uttered to herself. She shoved her way through the many bystanders and reached the barricade. "What's going on?" she shouted to one of the officers.

"Move along. There's nothing to see. Everyone stand back." The officer directed them to step back. Somewhere in his fifties, he was bald and a little overweight.

"But I work there." She waved her building access card to him as proof.

Suddenly the officer stopped and took a keen interest in her. He radioed something in, listened, and then pointed at her. Nami shrank back. She should have kept that little piece of info to herself. Before she knew it, she was taken from the crowd and led inside the building.

"What's going? Why are the FBI here?"

"This way please," he answered simply.

They walked by the reception desk and rode the elevator to her floor. The entire trip was nerve-racking. He didn't say anything to her and she didn't dare ask again.

She was escorted to the conference room where she found Hatchi, Nezumi and Chew. Hatchi looked scared and nervous. Chew was seated and hunched over.

Nezumi saw her and ran up to her. "Why? Why? I can't believe Arlong did this to me. I thought we were pals. We went golfing two weeks ago and he didn't say anything to me."

"What's going on?" She ignored Nezumi and went straight to Hatchi. "The police won't tell me anything."

"Nami," Hatchi began, his index fingers poking at each other as he explained. "Arlong is gone. They said he did some bad things."

Nami shook her head. "He's gone? Who said he did bad things?"

"We can't find him. They said he fled the country."

"You're not making any sense. Start from the beginning."

Chew looked up and said depressingly, "Arlong is being charged with extortion, money laundering, embezzlement and bribery."

"Come on. He wouldn't do that." Nami hesitated as she thought about the possibility. She wasn't so sure. There were things at Arlong Park that Nami found puzzling. What exactly did Arlong do? He almost never came to work and never attended any of the meetings. And Arlong Park wasn't exactly bubbling with clients and work. Besides herself, the rest of her coworkers didn't seem to do anything. "Be real. There has to be a mistake."

"Kuroobi, you're back. What did they ask you?"

Nami turned and saw Kuroobi enter the room. Everyone ran to him. He was quiet and his face expressionless. Instead of answering Hatchi's question, he headed to the corner and sat down crossed-legged on the floor. He folded his arms and closed his eyes.

"This is no time to be meditating," Nezumi spat.

"Nami Swan, come with me," an unfamiliar feminine voice commanded. "We need to ask you a few questions." A dark-haired woman in a business suit was waiting for her at the doorway. Her long hair was pinned up and her glasses rested on top of her head.

Nami held her breath and gulped. She glanced at her coworkers for some reassuring sign or word. None were forthcoming. They were all silent and oblivious. She did as she was told and followed the woman in the business suit out of the conference room and into Arlong's office. There, she found his computer dismantled, the file cabinet empty and his belongings stored in cardboard boxes. A tall big man with white hair was barking out orders to other suits, who were scurrying around like mice. He had a long, scary-looking scar across his forehead and he wasn't modest about the way he dressed. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way, showing off some massive pectoral muscles. He was gnawing down on a thick cigar, not at all worried about the building's no smoking policy.

He saw her and grunted, "Take a sit."

She sat down, her hands gripping each other. "Could you please tell me what's going on?"

"How long have you been employed by Arlong?"

Nami hesitated before she answered. "Four years. Who are you? What's Arlong done? Why you are looking for him? Are we in trouble?"

"What's your position here at Arlong Park?" the woman in the business suit asked next. She was seated by Arlong's huge desk. She set her glasses down, pulled out a dossier and started jotting down notes.

Nami frowned. Her questions were plainly being ignored. "I handle the architectural designs and floor plannings. Sometimes I act as the liaison for Arlong Park and the building contractors."

"Did Arlong personally hire you himself?"

She shrugged. "He was there at my interview so I guess the answer is yes. Could you answer some of my questions now?"

The two briefly exchanged looks and considered. To her amazement, the burly man pulled out another cigar and lit it so now he had two cigars in his mouth. Nami wondered if he had simply forgotten about the other unfinished cigar. He drew a deep breath and let out a long stream of smoke before he nodded once to the woman.

"So what do you know about Baroque Works?" the woman continued, unabated.

And so the questioning continued for another hour. In retrospective, Nami should have stopped and demanded a lawyer like they do on the cop shows. She paid her taxes, she had legal rights. But she didn't, all because she was too nervous and frustrated to think straight.

When the interviews were all done, the FBI had just about stripped their workplace of every piece of object. The only things they left behind were the furniture, but only after they inspected every nook and cranny. Nami became very alarmed when she saw her belongings being carted away. She stopped the FBI agent and searched frantically in the boxes until she found what she was looking for.

"Please don't take this. This is mine." She freed it from cardboard box and cradled it protectively in her arms.

"Everything is evidence," the ambiguous suit argued. His hand reach out to retrieve it.

Nami dodged his hand and moved away from him. "I swear it has nothing to do with Arlong." She didn't know how far she had to go to save it. Jail time was a good possibility.

"What's going on here?" The only female FBI agent appeared, fidgeting with her glasses.

The suit growled at Nami. "She's tampering with evidence."

"It's not evidence! It's mine and it's a gift," she said sincerely. "A gift from a nice old man."

"Let me see what it is."

Nami paused and regarded her curiously. She was only the only woman working in the group. She had a certain air of professionalism, intelligence, and duty, which was opposite to what others in the group exhibited. They were rough and careless with the way they handled the packing, oftentimes joking and making silly remarks. Though the cigar-man was in charge of the operation, it was clear they also deferred to her.

Slowly Nami unwrapped her arms and showed the agent her possession. It was a small antique globe, made out of bronze. It was a gift from Zeff and it was the most amazing gift she had ever received. She brought it to work, thinking maybe it was a secret gift from him. It certainly brightened up her dreary desk.

The woman agent leaned down and squinted at it. Her finger touched and rotated the sphere. "Let her have it. We don't need it."

"But Smoker said to take everything! Leave no stone unturned."

Her glare ended his protest.

Nami let out a sigh of relief. One disaster was averted. She would have felt awful if she lost it. "Thank you!"

She didn't say anything, but walked coolly back to overseeing the rest of the group. That was until she tripped over a stack of files and landed on her stomach. Immediately, the men stopped what they were doing and scrambled to her rescue. They fussed over her like worried parents.

Nami blinked a few times at the chaos and then decided to sneak away. Better to leave while she still could. Hatchi, Kuroobi, Chew, and Nezumi had the same idea.

"Can you believe the nerve of these people? Telling us not to leave town. Who do they think they are?" Nezumi sneered, tapping away on his iPhone. Obviously he was over his initial shock of Arlong ditching them.

"The FBI!" Nami countered angrily. "Don't mess with them."

Nezumi harrumphed at her, trying to act tough.

"Do we need to come back to work on Monday?" Hatchi asked. He was still poking his fingers at each other.

Nami shook her head. She took one sweep of the workplace, which was getting emptier and emptier by the minute. Was there anything left to come back to? Suddenly she realized she might be unemployed.


	29. Chapter 29

Roommates

It was lousy way to start the day. Her right shoulder was sore and her neck had a kink from sleeping in an awkward position. She only wanted to lie in bed and hide under the covers. It wasn't like she could get any sleep if she wanted to. Discovering your employer was a wanted fugitive of the FBI, would make anyone anxious and nervous.

Sunday went by without any events, which was a relief to Nami. She expected a call from the FBI, or worse a visit from the mob for something she knew or done for Arlong. But no such thing happened. Even so, it was only Sunday. Who worked on Sundays?

Nami hid in her room and only snuck out when she was sure Sanji was out of the apartment. She grabbed whatever she could carry from the refrigerator and darted straight back into her room, locking the door behind her. She needed someone to talk to and tried calling Nojiko and Bellemere a few times, but never got a response from either one. Where were they? Too impatient and frustrated to leave them a message, she shut off her cell phone and threw it away.

Nami stayed the entire time in bed, tossing and turning and feeling a little alone and abandoned. She wanted to sleep her life away or wait for the end of the world. Either one was fine by her.

But in two days, Nami became bored. There was only so much she could do in her room and waiting for the end of world took a really long time.

Still in her pajamas she wore for the past two days, she wandered to the kitchen. Sanji was waiting for her.

Nami paused when she saw him. Sitting at the table with a bright smile on his face, he had a plate of seafood omelette and a cup of coffee ready for her. Sanji was dressed in a small waistcoat over a pinstripe shirt. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbow.

"Good morning," she mumbled faintly, knowing she was caught.

"Good afternoon," he corrected. "Welcome to the land of the living."

She glanced at her microwave and noted the time. It was 16 minutes pass one. Had Sanji been waiting for her all this time? She slumped into the chair and made a feeble attempt at cutting her omelette. She gave up and dropped her fork after one bite. She just didn't have the energy to eat. Instead she drank her coffee. She cradled the warm cup in her hands, letting the aroma waft up her nose. It was excellent as usual.

"How is the omelette?" Sanji asked as he sipped his tea.

"Good. I like the creamy cheese sauce. Thanks for making it."

"No work today?"

Stopping mid-way in her drink, Nami peered at him. Then she set the cup back on the table and slowly replied, "I don't feel like working today."

"Oh. Not feeling too good?"

Nami nodded her head. "Something like that." Eager to end the conversation, she made another attempt at the omelette.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with this?" Sanji tossed the newspaper on the table.

Her body went rigid as her eyes read the headline: ARLONG PARK CEO FLEES COUNTRY AFTER INDICTMENTS. On the front page, as clear as day, was a picture of Arlong along with Nezumi, Hatchan and Kuroobi. In the corner of the shot, she could make out a silhouette of another individual. She pulled the paper closer and scrutinized it. She grimaced and groaned. It was her. The back of her head to be exact, but she still recognized herself. She must have been doing something when the picture was taken and the photographer missed her face. Thank god.

"Nami, why didn't you say something sooner? How long did you mull around with this?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She wanted to cry. "What am I going to do?" she wailed.

"It's going to be all right," Sanji said soothingly. He reached out and patted her hand. "You're not in any trouble, are you?"

Nami shook her head. "I don't think so. I mean, I didn't do anything illegal that I know of." She gasped suddenly. The thought hadn't occurred to her and it scared her. Even though she was unaware of any of Arlong's illegal activities, it didn't necessary mean she was clear of any wrongdoing. She could still be in trouble with the authority.

She started to panic. "What if there are people who are after Arlong? What if they think I know something? Maybe I have testify against Arlong. Maybe I have go into hiding. Join the witness protection program."

"Oh dear! What will you do with all your things?"

"My things?" she shot back, confused. Then she realized Sanji made a joke. How annoying. She didn't think it was very funny. "Be serious."

"I am, but I think you're jumping ahead of yourself. You need to relax." Sanji got up and headed to the counter. He returned with a plate full of madeleine cookies. Nami eyed it hungrily. Who didn't like madeleine cookies? She quickly snagged one the moment the plate hit the table.

"Easy for you to say. You didn't have to talk to the FBI," she said between bites. She grabbed another madeleine after she finished the first. Right now, eating made her feel much better.

"Why don't you tell me everything that's happened."

Nami sighed heavily. If it was already in the local newspaper, it was definitely splattered all over the internet. There was no point hiding it. She went through her story, starting with the urgent phone messages from her coworkers, her subsequent trip to her office, and continued from there.

After three more cookies and another cup of coffee, Nami was finished. It made her feel easier after she explained the whole scenario to Sanji. The whole thing seemed so impossible, she still couldn't believe it herself. She wondered if she should get a lawyer, and if so, where could she find a good one at a cheap price.

"That's amazing. Do you think your boss did all that?"

Nami shook her head. "I don't know."

"Where do you think he could have gone? China? Russia? Cuba? Ecuador?"

"I don't know! I didn't know him that well and he barely came to work. What do you think is going to happen?"

Sanji shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe they will catch him, maybe they won't."

That wasn't much, but Nami didn't particularly care what happened to Arlong. He certainly wasn't an exemplary boss or even a mediocre one. He made his bed, now he has to lie in it. "What should I do in the meantime? Should I get a lawyer?"

"A lawyer? I don't think so. You're not charged with anything. But I do think you need to find another job."

"Another job?" she echoed depressingly. It was true. Regardless of the outcome, she didn't think she would be returning to Arlong Park. Something like this would take months, if not years to resolve. Guilty or innocent, it was too much of a scandal for the company to recover from.

Hearing the tone in her voice, Sanji jumped in, "You hated your job, remember. Think of it as a blessing in disguise. It's your chance to find something you like to do."

A blessing in disguise? In this sluggish economy, where so many people were out of work. It seemed like a daunting task, especially when she didn't know what she like to do. "I'm doomed." Her hands covered her face.

"Hey, hey! Don't quit now. It's too soon to throw in the towel." Sanji was on his knees. He gently took her hands from her face and held them.

For one brief moment Nami couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. His hands, she discovered, were strong and warm compared to hers. She wanted to pull her hands away from his in embarrassment, but felt powerless to do so. Suddenly she remembered the last time he did something like this, a long time ago in her office. The situation surrounding that event was absurd and insane, like a badly written story. It was all a ploy, a fake display of affection to make Empress Hancock jealous.

At the time, Nami had no idea of Robin's plan, concocted on her behalf and so she was clueless. She remembered being speechless and feeling very jittery then. Strangely, it was almost the same way she felt now.

Nami tried to calm herself, telling herself it was only Sanji, but her heart continued to palpitate wildly.

"If I could help you in anyway, I would," Sanji told her. He wavered a second as he cleared his throat. Nami's eyes flickered up to his. She thought she detected something, but it disappeared too quickly. "Look, take all the time you need. You don't have to worry about the rent or any of the household bills."

She sat there agape at his extreme generosity. She blinked a couple of times before she found her voice. "Really? I mean, that's really sweet of you. I have a little money saved up so I'm not exactly destitute. I can still pay the rent with no problem."

Sanji let go of her hands and got up, straightening his clothes. "Don't worry about it. What are friends for?" He smirked. "Of course if you really wanted to pay me back, you could start by taking out the garbage."

Nami looked at him, raised her eyebrows and then chuckled. "I suppose that's a fair trade," she conceded. For a weird moment, she felt relieved, but a little disappointed.

"Cheer up." "You'll figure out something. You only need to ride this out. Things can't get any worse."

Nami held her breath and blurted, "Don't say that!"


	30. Chapter 30

Roommates

On the sofa, Nami made herself comfortable and opened her book she found at the public library. It was Monday and she took out the trash. She even separated it, making sure the recyclables went into the blue bin, the compost in the green and the waste in the black. She had plenty of free time.

Two weeks had gone by with no news from the FBI or the news media. Nami surfed the internet daily for any kind of information, but the media outlet had deemed the scandal insignificant and humdrum. What was one corrupt CEO to them when the recent years had produced dozens if not hundreds of them? The media had quickly moved on and were now focused on the birth of a baby boy by celebrity couple so-and-so.

As for Arlong, he was possibly in Venezuela or Columbia, but that was only wild rumors. Hatchan had delivered the official news that Arlong Park Inc. was no more. No one was going to step in to save it, which came as no surprise to Nami. But what was most upsetting was they weren't getting paid for their final week of work. All assets were frozen, pending litigation.

Trying to stay busy and positive, Nami worked on her resume. She updated her experience and spruced up her skill sets. When it came to her work history, she balked. There was no way she could exclude it. Arlong Park was her only place of employment unless she included her part-time jobs she held during school. And they weren't impressive at all, mostly low-paying seasonal jobs.

In the end, she made up her mind and put it in with all its glorious details. It was no use hiding it. Might as well flaunt it. She saved her resume on her computer with the intention of uploading it later to job search sites. She can't give up without trying first.

With that out of the way, Nami had started on her book. The author was a best-seller, but was trying a different theme from her previous novels. The book was boring and slow. Filled was many different characters, most of whom were uninspiring and swallow, she was having a hard time getting into it. Nami got to the eighth chapter when she heard the front door open and close.

Rubbernecking down the hallway, she was surprised to see Sanji. He walked in, hefting a couple of bags of grocery. He had left the apartment earlier than his usual routine. She assumed he had errands to run before work and didn't expect him back until much later in the night.

"Good. You're here," he greeted her. He was decked out in a summer attire, a pink short-sleeved shirt, a dark vest and beige baggy trousers. He vanished into the kitchen.

Nami set down her book on the coffee table and pursued him through the second entrance. "What's going on? Shouldn't you be at work?" She watched him as he pulled out bread and packages of slice meat from the brown bags. He grabbed condiments from the cabinets and started making sandwiches on the counter.

"Let's go out. Change clothes. Bring a swimsuit," Sanji instructed her without any explanation. He ducked down and brought out a small ice chest and filled it with ice from the freezer.

"What do you mean? Where are we going? What are we doing?"

He grinned excitedly. "I got a boat."

Like that answer was enough for Nami. "A boat? The kind that floats in the water? Where did you get a boat?"

He stopped and sighed. "My friend has a boat. He's in town on a business trip and says I could use it. Let's go sailing. It'll be fun. Go around the bay. Catch some sunshine. So get already. It's not like you have anything else to do."

"Who? Which friend?" People who owned boats were exceedingly rare. A boat was not something regular people owned. Even owning a car was considered luxurious by her standard. Gas was expensive, parking was elusive and traffic was prevalent in this city.

"Shit, why so many questions?" Sanji's shoulders slumped. He was in the middle of packing the sandwiches he made. "He's not exactly a friend of mine. More like a friend of a friend."

A friend of a friend? That seemed vaguely suspicious. "And he was nice enough to loan you his boat? Do you even know how to sail a boat?" Immediately she regretted her words. Her queries came out harsher and more critical than she intended.

"Yes!" Sanji said flatly, sounding slightly annoyed. "I called Robin and Usopp. They're coming. And Kaya too. Do you want to come or not?"

Nami paused and adjusted her attitude when she heard that. Well, that changed everything. If they were all going, it had to be okay. She nodded her head.

Finding something to wear on short notice wasn't something Nami wasn't use to. Given her clothes collection, it didn't take long after scrounging in her closet. She found a floral bandeau sundress she didn't know she had. She wore it over her bikini and then added a long knit cardigan as a cover. Getting a few more things, she jammed everything into a tote bag. Her appearance was satisfactory for a beach outing.

Struggling with the straps of her high-heeled sandals, Nami hopped out of her room into the living room, where Sanji was waiting. He had on a gigantic backpack that was easily twice his size.

"This is for one day, right?" She felt underprepared with her small tote bag.

"I brought lunch and snacks for everyone," he said simply.

"Oh, that's right. How could I forget?" Nami made a funny face when Sanji wasn't looking.

The journey through public transit system was an adventure in itself. Rush hour was over on the subway lines, but there were still a lot of commuters. Nami had to guide him onto the train, otherwise he would have knocked down the other passengers with his backpack. They rode on the subway train for an hour before transferring to another train and finally jumping on a bus.

After the long transit ride, they made it and not a moment too soon. Nami was getting carsick. It was a relief to be walking. Bright and hot, Nami put on her sunglasses and checked out the area.

Their destination was a small picturesque town, filled with a variety of retail, hotel, and dining. It had enough people to be considered lively but not too many to make it feel crowded. The sky was clear, the air was clean and the water was incredibly blue. It was definitely worth the trouble. It was amazing little tourist spot.

Deep in thought, Sanji was scrutinizing a map while chewing on his cigarette.

"Do you know where to go?" Nami asked as she tied back her hair into a ponytail. Next she looked at her cell phone. No messages.

He didn't reply and started moving in no particular direction. She chased after him.

"When is Robin, Usopp, and Kaya getting here?"

Nothing but an incoherent mumble. He stopped and stared up at a street sign and then back down to his map.

Frowning, Nami tiptoed and peeked over to look at the map in his hand. It didn't take Nami long to figure out the problem. She took it from him and flipped it upside down for him. "I think we need to head over there." She giggled and steered him in the correct direction.

Sanji exhaled and became relax. "Thanks."

They moved down the hot street until they came upon the water. The harbor was almost deserted. It didn't look like many people owned boats here, despite how lively the town was. The boats that existed here were mostly fishing boats and dinghies. Nami wondered which of these boats belonged to Sanji's friend's friend. They walked and searched until Sanji spotted the one he was looking for.

"That one." He pointed to a boat with a sail mast. It was docked at the end of the pier.

Nami was little surprised when she got a closer look at it. It was a very small boat, painted with green stripes. Now she was no expert on boats, but it was a weird-looking boat. It had a strange shape, kind of like a frying pan with saucepan stacked on top. Then again, maybe it was just her imagination.

"Behold, the Shimashima," Sanji introduced with his arms held wide apart. He hopped on board and entered the cabin, where he dropped his backpack. "What do you think?"

"It's definitely one of a kind." She got on and walked around the entire parameter of it. It seemed sturdy. There was even a chimney for the kitchen.

Of course Sanji couldn't stay away from cooking for very long. He set up a small grill and started to prepare lunch. He expected their friends would arrive at any moment. Nami took the opportunity to relax on a lounge chair. Since it was fairly secluded, she felt comfortable enough to slip out of her sundress to work on her tan. She dug into her tote bag for suntan lotion and then groaned. She forgot to bring any.

"Sanji, do you bring any sunscreen?" she shouted over to the opposite end of the boat to where he was cooking.

"Check my backpack," Sanji answered back.

Getting up, she crawled into the cabin and located his backpack. Her hand felt inside and found a bottle, which turned out to be an ordinary water bottle. She tried another compartment and she uncovered a pack of cigarettes. Of course, he couldn't survive a day without these. He bought a lot of things. She started pulling things out and laid them out on the floor. Her fingers brushed against something flat and square. Confused, she pulled it out and stared at it. She couldn't quite breath for a second when she recognized what the square packet was. Her cheeks felt warm. Why would he bring that?

"Did you find it?"

Nami jumped at the sound of his voice and she dropped the scandalous paraphernalia. "Uh, no..." her voice wavered. She patted the floor, frantically looking for it. "Where did you say it was?"

"Try the front pocket."

"Okay," she replied curtly while trying to keep her voice steady.

A dam of panic was released and relief gushed through her body upon finding it again. She was about to jam it back in the backpack and escape outside when she discovered her mistake. Nami opened the packet and peeked inside: needle and thread. It was a sewing kit.

Nami almost collapsed from her own stupidity. Thinking rationally again, she berated herself. Dummy. Condoms came in aluminum foil, not cardboard. Of course Sanji wouldn't bring one. Why should he?

Embarrassed, she located the sunscreen and crept back to her lounge chair. At least no one saw her.

Even with nice weather and radio playing in the background, it was a restless afternoon for Sanji. He paced impatiently back and forth along the dock. Finished with his preparation, he had laid out the food in a nice layout, a fancy buffet. Only problem was no one was around to eat it. Still no sign of their friends. Nami had eaten what she could, which wasn't much and the rest remained sadly untouched.

"What's taking them so long?" Sanji complained. "The food is going to go bad under this heat." He craned his neck for a better view.

Nami sat up and stretched her arms. She grabbed a fruity drink Sanji made for her and took a sip. "Maybe they hit traffic."

Her answer didn't put him at ease. "They could at least call if they are going to be late."

"No point fretting about it." She

"I just want to get going soon." His cell phone rang, indicating an incoming message. He checked his cell phone and was met with disappointment. "Usopp and Kaya aren't coming. Tamanegi got stung by a bee."

"Ouch. Is he okay?"

"Yeah. Kaya is looking after him." He turned and stared glumly at the food wasting away.

"There's still Robin," Nami said hopefully. "She should be here soon."

Unexpectedly, Sanji reached down and untied the dock lines to the boat. He pushed the bow from the dock with his leg and jumped aboard.

"Wait, are we leaving?" Startled, Nami stood up and wrapped her cardigan around her shoulder. "What about Robin?"

"Let's sail around for a bit. She can call us if she does show up."

With great ease, the boat moved away from the dock and they sailed out of the harbor.


End file.
